Sin
by Hargasm23
Summary: Cragen orders Elliot to pull Olivia from an undercover op at an elite gentlemen's club. While under the guise of a wealthy stockbroker Elliot finds himself in a very compromising position with his partner. E/O.
1. Chapter 1

**SIN**

**Chapter 1**

Jesus Christ.

Never would he have imagined that Olivia Benson's hot mouth would be on his, her barely clothed body writhing against him, that breathy moan as his erection pushed against her.

This was the kind of thing that only existed in his dreams, or at the most when he lost the fight to block it out in his thoughts.

He had just been there to protect his partner. He was doing his job and she had been in trouble. Cragen had sent him in to stop the undercover operation. There was word that she was the next target and Cragen was pulling the plug.

The place was called Sin, a high class gentlemen's club for the elite and she had been working there for almost 2 weeks. Women who worked there, lived there. She had no phone, no ID, nothing. There was no way of contacting her other than in person.

She was in charge. Took the bookings, made the appointments and arranged the rooms. Her employment terms specifically detailed that she wasn't there to participate. Just to be the face of the organisation and flirt with the clients. Tempt them into dropping cash on a night with one of their high class ladies. It made him sick knowing perverts were all drooling over her, wishing their $5,000 an hour could be spent on her.

He was dressed in an Armarni suit, under the guise that he was a wealthy stockbroker who didn't have time to meet women and like most things in his life – he bought what he wanted.

The bouncer crossed his arms against his chest as Elliot approached. He looked pissed already.

Elliot cleared his throat as he made it to the door.

"ID." The voice was low.

He tried not to fumble as he reached for his wallet. It was filled with an array of counterfeit documentation. He pulled out the drivers licence of Nicolas Campbell and handed it to the bouncer. Instead of taking the licence the bouncer snatched his wallet and flicked through the contents, pulling out the cards and inspecting the money. He took in the big wad of cash courtesy of the New York police department. After he was satisfied he grabbed the licence and analysed it. Then looked back at Elliot's face in an effort to match it with the photo. He pushed the wallet and licence into Elliot's chest.

"Up against the wall." The bouncer spoke gruffly and he swallowed. This was it, he wasn't fooling him and he would be refused entry.

"Now," he repeated with urgency.

Elliot backed himself up against the wall.

"Turn around."

He turned so he was facing the wall and felt as the bouncer began to pat him down, checking for weapons. There was a debate back at the station about whether or not Elliot should come armed but it was obvious something of this nature was bound to happen.

Once he was satisfied Elliot was clean he motioned to the door and Elliot walked through and up the dimly lit staircase.

When he reached the top he saw what looked like the shell of a reception desk that you'd see at a glamorous office building, only with dim lighting.

He saw her immediately, she had her back to him and was reaching for a file. His eyes couldn't help but skim down the material of her poor excuse for a dress until they rested on her ass. The hem of her dress danced high up her thighs.

A part of him was furious, he had imagined they'd put her in something that would make any sane man want to take her right then and there but this was ridiculous. The dress was so short that if she reached any higher he'd catch a glimpse of her panties. If she was wearing any.

Jesus Christ.

The other part of him felt something he wouldn't dare acknowledge. As his eyes roamed over her long tanned legs up to her bare thighs, he tried desperately to convince himself he was only starring in an effort to portray his character. An objectifying, chauvinistic, pig.

Olivia finally grasped the file she was reaching for and turned around. Her eyes captured his immediately and didn't even flicker at his presence. That's how good she was.

A perfect fucking pokerface.

"Hi," she said sweetly, putting the file down on the desk in front of her. "Welcome to Sin."

She had changed her voice, it was a little higher and breathier he noticed.

"Hey," he managed to get out, aiming to sound casual and failing dismally. His eyes couldn't help but dip to her generous cleavage. The deep red dress was so low cut he could just make out the base of her black push up bra.

She straightened a little in front of him and his eyes flicked back up to hers. She'd seen him take her in like any man would have at a place like this, only she was his partner. He felt like a prick.

"What can I do for you?" Olivia's sweetened voice offered.

His eyes moved around the office front before he stole a glance over his shoulder. He wanted to ensure they were alone. He noticed the rows of doors all with different numbers on them made from what looked like red velvet. Once he was convinced they were alone he turned back to her.

"You can start by telling me your name," he said with a flirtatious edge that felt unfamiliar on him.

He watched as Olivia lent down resting her elbows on the counter and his eyes slid back between her breasts. She had done that on purpose, she had to know the view she was giving him right now would be unavoidable.

Somehow he managed to pull his eyes back up to hers. She'd waited until she gained his eye contact before continuing.

"Lexi," she informed him the moment his eyes met with hers. Her voice was a notch lower, she was flirting with him and although he knew she was just playing the part of her character he was feeling bold.

"Well Lexi," he said moving so his elbows lent on the cold granite of the counter. He hesitated only slightly before letting his hand move across and lightly smooth across her upper arm.

"I'd like a key to one of your rooms," he told her thumbing her upper arm, drawing himself ever so closer to his partner.

"And you."

He watched as her tongue smoothed over her lower lip. They were redder than he'd ever seen them and he wondered how much lipstick would rub off on him he dared to lean in and capture her lips.

She moved then, slowly and his hand fell from it's light grasp on her arm. He wondered if she'd read his inappropriate thoughts and was purposefully creating distance. He watched her pull out a folder and slide it towards him.

It's cover was lined with red velvet.

"You can have any woman you like," she told him softly. "In here." She waited for his eyes to drop to the folder but they didn't.

"Ok," he said under the guise that he was complying. "What page are you on?" His lips slowly curled up into a sly smile.

She stiffened a little then and moved forward opening the book for him. She flicked the pages in front of him one by one and he watched the assortment of women dressed in provocative outfits flick past his eyes.

Teddies, underwear, costumes, S&M outfits, blondes, redheads, brunettes.

"Feel free to browse," she told him still flicking the pages for him.

He reached out quickly, grabbing her hand and stilling it against the book. He watched her breath catch a little in surprise.

"I've made my choice," he said the words in a whisper. He needed her to know he was serious. He needed to get her alone, that was what he had come here to do. To let her know she was the next hit and get her the hell out of here.

She didn't move her hand out from underneath his, she just stared at him waiting for him to continue.

"These women," he began slowly. "They are $5,000 an hour." It wasn't so much a question as it was a statement. He knew the facts.

"For you," he told her letting his thumb play across the top of her hand. "$10,000."

He saw it then the slightest ripple across her features. He couldn't place whether it was anxiety, panic or alarm that was threatening to seep through her deadpan expression. He was trying to read her and failing miserably.

Why wasn't she cooperating? She had to know he wouldn't be here unless it was serious. He just needed to get her alone in one of those rooms so he could explain. His eyes begged her to just comply.

She pulled her hand swiftly from beneath his.

"No," she told him bluntly, her voice no longer breathy and innocent. It was as if it were now Olivia talking to him, telling him to take a hike.

He narrowed his eyes at her, trying to get her to realise he wasn't playing around. He opened his mouth to say something when a door from behind Olivia opened and a man walked out.

"I'm sorry sir, is there a problem?" the burley man asked Elliot.

Olivia bowed her head and was now eying the countertop.

"Yes actually there is," Elliot said a little annoyed. "Apparently Lexi here doesn't think I'm good enough for her."

"Well Lexi isn't a participant here but if the price is right," the man's words trailed off and he watched Olivia's eyes quickly dart up to his. Finally a look he could register, it was panic.

"Did you say you were willing to pay ten grand for 1 hour of her time?" the man's voice rose in surprise.

Elliot's eyes wrestled to understand why Olivia looked so startled. All he had to do was get her alone and out of earshot, then he'd be able to explain.

The man was watching him impatiently, waiting for his answer so he let his eyes rake down Olivia's body, across her breasts and then back up to her almond brown eyes.

"She's worth a hell of a lot more," he said softly.

Olivia closed her eyes and looked away.

His stomach dropped then, something was desperately wrong but it was too late the man was already reaching for a set of keys.

He slid the room key towards Elliot.

"Cash or credit?"

Number 13.

Elliot found the corresponding door to the key he'd been given and inserted it into the lock.

His hands shook slightly. Olivia was standing behind him waiting for him to open it and he could feel the tension slicing through him like a knife. The man at reception was now out of view and yet he could still sense her seething.

He unlocked the door and gently pushed it open, his eyes darting to hers for a second as he waited for her to enter. She hesitated for a brief moment before she walked passed letting out a strained sigh.

As he shut the door behind him he noticed with confusion that the door couldn't be locked from the inside. He turned to Olivia, intent on asking her what the hell was going on. As he turned she was so close his breath caught, she wasted no time moving him up against the door with her body.

He felt her breasts push into his chest and the wooden door rattle beneath their weight.

She grabbed the lapels of his suit jacket and tugged his jacket down his arms. She then leant in so close her lips nicked the skin of his neck when she spoke just below his ear.

"Camera, back right, no audio." Her hands moved to his tie and she started to tug it off, he felt her hip press into his crotch and he held his breath. He instinctively he grabbed her waist, trying to subtly distance her lower body from his.

His mind was racing, trying to comprehend just what she was telling him. Just what she was proposing they do.

"If they suspect anything," she whispered her lips brushing his ear as she spoke. She didn't finish the sentence but she didn't have to. He knew – they'd be dead.

He felt her reach down and grasp his belt buckle and start to pull it open. His mouth went dry, he grabbed her wrists then and without thinking pushed her firmly off him. She stumbled back in her heals, trying to steady herself. He could tell she was working in overtime to conceal her look of panic that he was about to blow their cover.

They were alone in this room but they were being watched from afar. He had been a big spender so there would be no question all eyes would be on them. Any slight indication that they weren't who they said they were and things would turn south, fast.

14 dead women in 8 months proved how capable they were.

No wonder she had been so against this. If only he'd listened to the warning in her eyes earlier.

He wasn't sure what his plan was but he needed to get that look of panic off her face before it was too late. He stepped forward and moved his hand to cup her cheek, his thumb smoothed across her skin and he felt her tense slightly at his touch. He let his hand trail further down the column of her neck and she swallowed against his palm. He moved his hand down further until it rested on her collarbone.

His eyes moved to the bed behind them. It had a red velvet comforter matching the hideous decor of this place. His heart was thumping a mile, he needed to tell her she was in danger, that she was next, but he had to get closer to her first to do so. The cameras would pick up that he was talking to her and it could look suspect.

"Lie down," he told her, his voice low.

He saw the flicker in her eyes at his compliance and he wasn't sure if was out of relief or alarm, or both.

She wasn't making motions to move and he wondered if she was now regretting this plan of attack. He wanted to tell her it was ok, that he wasn't going to do anything. He hoped the look in his eyes would convey this but if he could read her eyes before then she probably couldn't read his now. His hand was still flat on her collarbone so he gently nudged her backward.

She moved then and stepped backward, his hand coming off her completely. He watched as she sat on the edge of the bed pulling her body weight up the bed until she was leaning back, resting her weight on her elbows.

He let his eyes trail down her bare legs and he prayed she thought it was just part of the act. Jesus they were long. The hem of her dress was now pooling high up her thighs.

He closed his eyes, he couldn't do this. This was Olivia for Christ Sake. What the hell were they thinking? Only he knew there was no way out of it if he was going to get her out of here alive.

She was lying there with a patient look in her eyes but he could tell his hesitation was causing her to panic, every moment that passed made her fear of getting caught skyrocketed. She obviously had a far greater insight into the place and something was horribly off. He had to move now.

Finally he managed to step forward, the bed bowed beneath his weight as he climbed up the length of her. His heart was thumping in his chest and he felt lightheaded. He wedged a leg between hers and his eyes trailed up to meet hers. He was trying to ease any concern she was feeling right now with a look of assurance but even he knew it was bullshit. They were screwed.

He sucked in a breath, grasped one of her upper arms that was holding her up and eased her down against the mattress.

Her hair pooled around her framing her face and he bowed down letting his lips loom dangerously close to hers, he felt her breath catch. He felt giddy at the thought that he could so easily capture her lips right then and there but there was no way he was going to let it come to that.

Instead he let his lips trail up her neck until they reached the base of her ear. He felt her shiver against him and he tried to ignore her reaction.

"Cragen's pulling the plug," he said the words he had come here to say. "Your next, Voiught's targeted you, it's too dangerous."

He was waiting for a response from her, some sort of reaction to what he'd just told her. His lips lingered at her neck, holding their position while he tried to figure out what he was going to say next. He was still holding his body above hers on his knees and forearms, there was no way he was going to lower himself to lie on top of her. That would be too much.

He felt her hands then, moving between their bodies and grasping his shirt. She tugged it upward and out of his pants and started to unbutton it from the bottom. His eyes closed against her neck, what the hell was she doing. When she got his shirt open she moved up to pull it off his arms but he stopped her, moving up and pulling it off himself. He moved back down making eye contact with her, he needed her to tell him with a look that she had this under control and that she knew what she was doing.

There was that pokerface again.

He moved back down, resting his weight on his upper arms again, he was now shirtless above his partner. She was breathing deeply, he could see the constant rise and fall of her breasts beneath him out of the corner of his eyes. Without hesitation she moved her hand up and trailed it down the front of his chest. His body was reacting instantly, goosebumps breaking out across his flesh.

_What the hell was she doing?_

She let her hand run over his stomach until she reached his belt. Her hand encircled the buckle and he crashed down on her then sandwiching her hand between their bodies, his bare chest pushing into her breasts. His lower half pressed into her hip and he felt her move her hand uneasily from between their bodies.

He let his mouth fall back to her neck.

"What the - Liv, tell me you have a plan," he said the words so fast and so quietly he wasn't sure if they'd even come out audible.

She used her body then to push him to the side until she'd rolled them over and she was sliding on top of him. A thigh slid firmly between his legs across his groin and he couldn't suppress the groan from his throat. He used his knee to push her legs apart, one falling either side of his body. He tried to control his rapid breaths.

Her lips slid down his neck once more towards the base of his ear and he closed his eyes.

_This was not happening._

"You think I can just walk out of here?" she said through gritted teeth. He didn't know if she expected him to answer that because he couldn't for the life of him think about anything other than the fact that she was practically straddling him.

"Touch me," she said the words that nearly made him hard. What the hell did she just say?

_Touch her? Touch her where? Jesus Christ._

"Ten grand Elliot, touch me," she rasped, she sounded annoyed, pissed off that he had gotten them in this situation. Now he had to touch her or they'd be dead.

He was shaking now, from adrenaline alone. He wanted to ask her where, but he couldn't. He knew what she was saying, he'd barely laid a hand on her and she was all over him. It wouldn't have looked right. He'd just shelled out ten grand and he was acting like a prepubescent teenager.

_What were his options? Her breasts, her ass, her thighs. Jesus Christ he would never sleep again. _

He reached out and grasped her upper arm and let his hand run across the bare skin, over her shoulder, down the side of her torso, barely scraping the side of her breast as it continued down her waist, across her hip and down her thigh.

He had assumed her thigh would be the safest bet but as he ran over the silky material he realised quite quickly that he'd hit her bare skin. The dress was short but it had practically pooled at her hip in her position. As he moved his hand back up her thigh he realised he'd taken the dress with him and suddenly his hand was running across the material of her panties at her hip. He froze, he felt her hot breath against his neck waiting for her to call him on it.

He pulled his hand off her then completely, he needed to get control of himself and fast. She shifted then only slightly but enough to rock a flood of pleasure through his lower half. He lost it, sliding a hand behind the back of her neck and pulling her ear down to his lips.

"Fuck Liv, I can't do this," he whispered in a rush, each word jumping on top of the last.

She turned her face then so her lips were skimming his cheek. She smelled like soap and perfume.

"Trust me," she whispered.

His eyes drifted close, he wanted to trust her, god he needed to, but he didn't know how much longer he could control his impending hard on.

Just as he was starting to feel some semblance of hope that she had a plan he felt her lips push into the side of his neck. She kissed and nipped just below his ear and he grabbed her upper arm in an effort to suppress his moan. He wouldn't dare grab her any lower.

Just when he was about to tell her to ease up he felt her drag her lips over his collarbone and his eyes drifted to a close. She let her lips trail down his breastbone streaming kisses further down his torso. He felt her continue to move further down his chest and he bit into his lip.

_What the hell was she doing? Was this her idea of buying time? _

His eyes were still closed, he couldn't look down at her right now, as she slid her body down his. Her lips were now pressing into his abs and he swallowed a moan. That's when he her hand wrap around his belt buckle and start undo it.

_Fuck._

His heart rate soared. He wanted to reach down and grab her but something inside him paused momentarily, the curiosity, he wanted to know how far was she really going to go.

She unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. When he felt her begin to tug them down his game of chicken won out and he reached down grasping her wrist. He yanked her up his body.

She called out in surprise, his grip was hard but he needed her to back the hell off. He pulled her until her face aligned with his and his eyes captured her. He narrowed them in on her and she twisted in his grasp. He still had her wrist captured and wasn't letting go.

He pulled her down so their cheeks brushed.

"What. The fuck," he rasped in her ear. He held her there so she'd have a chance to respond, tell him just what the hell she thought she was doing.

She struggled against him, trying to move her wrist from his grip and her face from his. She was twisting so defiantly he ceased both her wrists and rolled her flat onto her back. He felt it then his erection push into her thigh and she moaned into his ear.

Jesus Christ. He was hard, his pants were undone and Olivia was bloody moaning beneath him. His grip on her wrists weren't letting up, he was pissed as hell at her.

_What the hell was she thinking?_

God he wanted pay back. She could feel the effect she was having on him and it was killing him. She wanted him to touch her? He wasn't holding back any longer.

He let a hand that was capturing her wrist, slide down her arm, run over collarbone and without hesitation slide over her breast. He watched as she bit her lip to stifle her surprise. Jesus Christ his head was spinning. He squeezed her gently and he heard her omit a noise from the base of her throat. The satin material of her dress was thin and he could feel the lace of the bra beneath.

He reached up and grabbed the strap of her dress pulling it defiantly down on one side revealing her bra. He smoothed his hand across her breast again feeling her nipple harden beneath his palm. He ran his thumb across and she twisted against him biting back a moan.

He could tell she was holding back, she didn't want to react to this but he wasn't going to let her get away with that. Not when his obvious reaction to her was pressing into her thigh.

He let his lips push into her neck, kissing her skin and he felt her arch her back, pushing her breast into his palm. He grabbed her bra strap then, damn it, he knew he was crossing some major lines here but she started this. There had been no holding back on her end so why the hell should he?

He pulled the strap down her arm and slid his hand inside the lacy the material and over her bare breast. He heard her reaction then and matched it, moaning into her neck at the sensation as she pushed herself into his hand. He let his thumb drag across her nipple and she groaned, her thigh pushing into his hardness. He muffled the moan into her neck, his hand leaving her breast to grab her cheek.

"Olivia," he rasped in her ear. "Don't." Anger punctuated the word.

He used her name as a warning. It had been a risk, she wasn't Olivia, she was Lexi but he needed her to stop pushing him closer towards the brink or he'd crack.

She wasn't slowing down, or tapering in fact she was pushing him onto his back again and sliding back on top of him. Before her thighs had a chance to make contact he used his knees to push them so they slid either side of his body. He grabbed her pulling her lips down so they hovered dangerously close to his. He gave her a look, hoping she'd read how pissed he was at her right now. Her eyes were taking him in but all he saw was that fucking pokerface.

She had no plan as far as he was concerned otherwise she would have said something. Her plan was just to pass the time torturing him. How the hell had it gotten this far was beyond him.

His hand that was cupping her cheek moved slightly bringing her marginally closer, their noses bumping slightly. He felt it then, her body tense against him, a brief indication of panic at the thought that he might actually kiss her.

He felt drunk with control then, she was on top but she was stiff against his body as he held her lips just moments from his. He moved his other hand up to cup her other cheek drawing a thumb purposefully over her lower lip. He watched as her eyes flickered before narrowing slightly. Half in anger, half questioning.

His heart was thumping madly against her chest, he knew he had her. She'd put him through hell and now he held payback defiantly in his grasp. That's what he kept telling himself, over and over, it had nothing to do with the fact that he had waited a good part of a decade to feel her lips against his.

She was stiffening against him, doing her best to hold herself above him without getting too close but he soon fixed that. He pulled her down swiftly and grazed his lips against hers, his lower lip brushing against her top lip. She pulled back, bowing her head so his lips practically slid across her forehead. He could see the muscles in her upper arms tensing by the second in her pursuit to distance her lips from his but it only spurred him on.

His hands still cupping her cheeks made it easy to pull her back up so her lips were in line with his. She was glaring at him, looking him dead in the eyes as if to say 'do it and die' but he wasn't giving in. He let his thumb smooth across her lower lip, parting them slightly before he let his mouth crash against hers.

She made a noise of protest as his lips seized her lower lip, drawing it between his. He wasn't risking her pulling back so he deepened it immediately, pushing her mouth open with his. She let out a sound, which could have been pleasure or protest he wasn't sure. A hand raked through the back of her neck, sliding through her hair as he pulled her further down on his lips. As his mouth opened hers once more he slid his tongue in and she let out a moan, the noise pulsated right down to his erection.

She had softened only marginally in his grasp as he let his tongue explore her mouth, one hand still clutched her cheek while he let the other hand trail down the smooth of her waist, across her hip and over her bare thigh. He let his tongue trail across her lower lip before he grasped it between his and sucked. She pulled back then, her lips no longer ceased by his, but still suspended above his. Her eyes were closed and his grip on her thigh stiffened at her sudden resistance. His heart began thumping wilding as he waited to see what she was going to do.

"Elliot," she spoke softly, her lower lip skimming his as she spoke. The tone of her voice made him uneasy. He waited, for just what she was going to say. Her eyes snapped open then.

"Don't," she told him defiantly.

His mind spun. Here she was telling him to stop. Stop kissing her after she'd just practically dry humped him. He wanted to push her off him right then and tell her to go to hell. He knew there was no way he could react like that when their lives were on the line.

He did the next best thing. Ignored her. His hand that still framed her cheek pulled her lips back onto his and he kissed her hard moaning against her lips. She tried to resist him subtly so it wouldn't be obvious to anyone watching. Her upper arms stiffened as she tried to pull out of the kiss but his lips grasped hers. His free hand moved then, sliding down her body and purposefully over her ass. She opened her mouth, letting out a noise of disapproval and he used that opportunity to slide his tongue in, moaning as his hand squeezed her ass, pushing his hardness into her lower half.

She moved her leg then, they had been either side of his body but she slid one over so it was between his and her thigh was resting between his legs. He knew what she was doing, he'd made it clear he didn't want her thigh pressing into his erection and she was about to get her own revenge.

He was too quick for her, he drove his tongue into her mouth once more and moved his thigh up, pushing it firmly between her legs against her panties.

She groaned into his mouth and he held her against his thigh, his hand still grasping her ass. He let it move lower until it reached the hemline of her dress and disappeared under the material. He pulled her bottom lip between his as his hand ran over her ass again, sliding across the material of her barely there panties. His mind spun.

She was still fighting him in her own way but seemed to be losing vigour by the second. He wondered how turned on she was, all that moaning and writhing, if he just moved his hand down inside her panties he could find out. She'd kill him.

He opted for moving his thigh between her legs once more, sliding his jeans back and forth across her panties, holding her against him by her ass.

Her mouth that was still wrestling against his, broke free.

"Fuck you," she mumbled against his lips but it was obvious his actions were making her weaken against him.

Her breathing was getting heavy and she was biting back moan after moan. She didn't want to let on that this was affecting her but he wasn't buying a second of it.

He flipped her onto her back then and drove a hand between her legs, running across the smooth skin of her inner thigh.

Her lips were at his ear. "Elli-"

"Relax," he told her running his thumb back and forth just below the seam of her panties.

"I take it were going to simulate this," he whispered in her ear, knowing his hand didn't need to be that far up to get the point across.

"Pretend that I'm…" his words trailed off because he couldn't say it.

_Pretend that I'm inside you_.

The thought made his mouth dry.

He continued to run his thumb over her thigh despite the fact that the cameras wouldn't be able to see what he was doing.

"Just pretend that I'm-" he started again but she cut him off.

"No," she said quickly and decisively.

His face was against the side of hers and he narrowed his eyes in confusion.

"No?" he whispered confused into her ear.

"We're not simulating this," she said quickly in a breath and his mouth went dry. What the hell was she implying? His palms were starting to get sweaty.

He took a moment to try and decipher the situation. His mouth opened and he went to say something before closing it again. Did she really expect him to have sex with her?

He sucked in a breath, moments away from asking her that exact question when she stopped him in his tracks.

"Hit me," she said softly, her voice shaking slightly.

His eyes went wide and he tried clearing his throat.

_What the hell had she just said?_

"They have a no violence policy here," she whispered, her chest rising and falling against his with every breath.

"Hit me and they'll kick you out."

He closed his eyes. She had not just asked that of him. His hand between her legs had stilled against her for a while and he wondered if he should remove it.

"No Olivia," he had to nip this in the bud and get the thought out of her head. He didn't need time to consider it, there was no way he was going to hit his partner.

He felt her body tense against his in anger but she kept her words cool.

"El," she used his shortened name and he closed his eyes, his nose so close it was brushing her cheek.

"Please," she was pleading with him but it wasn't going to work. He knew she was just sweet talking him to get her to comply.

"Not happening." He pulled his hand from between her legs and moved it up to her shoulder, her bra strap and dress strap was still partway down her upper arm. He traced her collarbone reassuringly before he dropped the bombshell.

"Turn around," he whispered into her ear and he could feel her swallow and hold her breath. She was petrified and it made him feel like shit. He tried to soften his approach.

"Liv," he whispered, his hand now cupping her shoulder softly. "Turn around and I'll.."

_Do you from behind._

Even he couldn't finish the sentence and it was obvious his softened approach hadn't worked. He tried for a less subtle approach, grasping the rest of her dress and pulling the material down her body. Her bra came into view and his head swayed, taking in her breasts as he pulled the rest of the dress down until it pooled at her hips. His eyes raked over her abdomen and then back up to her eyes.

He lent in so he could whisper.

"Trust me Olivia, turn around," he was asking her to trust him after he'd just straight out objectified her body. He was just playing a role he kept telling himself.

He'd pooled her dress around her hips so he'd have a barrier from the cameras during the simulation. He prayed she realised that's what he was doing.

"No Elliot, hit me," she said her lips brushing his ear and he sighed into her neck, trying to gain some semblance of control.

"Olivia," he said her name though gritted teeth. "Turn around now." He was annoyed now, he just wanted this to be over some way or another but there was no way he was going to hit her.

He expected her to lash out at him but instead she moved her hands that were by her side and began pulling her dress completely down her body. Before he realised what she was doing she had it pooled at her knees and was kicking it off.

His jaw clenched. She had just done that on purpose, now there was no way he could simulate shit.

He grabbed her then, seizing both wrists and pinning them shoulder height against the bed. Before he had been trying to keep distance between their bodies but he was infuriated at her low blow. He let his hard body sink into hers, feeling every inch of her half naked body against his.

He was fucking hard and he let himself push into her thigh. He felt her tugging slightly at her wrists, which only made him grip them tighter. He was pissed off and irrational.

"Screw this Olivia," he seethed into her ear. "And screw you," he rasped and he felt her breathing quicken, he wondered for a moment if he was scaring her but he was fucking pissed at hell that she'd just decided the direction they were taking this.

"I'm going to fight you Elliot," she started out of breath, her voice wavering slightly. "Hold me down, grab me by the throat, get rough with me," she finished in a whisper.

He closed his eyes and bit hard into his lip, there was no fucking way he could do this. He couldn't think straight, all of his energy was now pooled in his groin.

"I swear to God Olivia," his voice trailed off in a strained whisper.

He felt Olivia tense beneath him in anger at his dismissal but he didn't care, all he could think about was the warmth of her body and the feel of her soft skin beneath his. He wanted to touch her again, it had been a while since they'd moved and he was taking the excuse.

He released one of her wrists and slid it possessively down her collarbone and over her breast. Her breath caught in surprise at his sudden move but she let him run his thumb back and forth across her erect nipple. She was holding back her vocal reaction to his touch but he could feel her hips roll slightly upward and he wasted no time pushing his thigh firmly between her legs until she called out.

Half his name, half a moan.

He smiled against her neck, he was feeling bold and brash and he pulled her bra down exposing her breast. He let his fingers run over the smooth expanse and her breathing quickened. He flicked his thumb hard against her nipple and she twisted beneath him her hip knocking into his hardness.

He moaned into her neck before sliding down to take her nipple in his mouth, she called out in surprise. Moaning openly as he let his tongue circle her nipple, flicking back and forth until she lost it grabbing his shoulder and forcing his face to come up to meet hers.

He looked her dead in the eyes, his lips moist as she glared back at him.

"You son of a bitch," she rose up slightly. "Hit me."

He pushed her back down into the mattress and slid his lips down to her ear.

"I'd fuck you before I hit you Olivia."

The words made him dizzy, he wasn't even sure why he'd said them. He just wanted to get the thought out of her head because there would be no way. She was silent beneath him as his lips lingered at her ear, he was trying to figure out what on earth he could say next.

_Jesus he'd gone too far._

He could feel her short bursts of air against his neck as his body held hers into the mattress, his hands still grasping her wrists. He was trapping her body beyond any means of escape and felt like an asshole, he wanted to get off her then give her some space, let her breathe and feel like she had some sense of control in this. The weight of his body must be killing her.

He wanted to apologise more than anything.

She was quiet and that scared him more than her attempt to get him to hit her, she shifted a little beneath him and his lips scrapped against her cheek in the process.

He felt her suck in a breath before she spoke.

"Then do it."

The words came out in a whisper and he swore he could feel her heart beat slamming into his chest. He closed his eyes, trying to make sense of what it was she was telling him. Surely he'd heard wrong, surely he was misinterpreting what she was saying.

He opened his mouth to ask her what she meant but no words came out, then as if she had known he needed confirmation she spoke. She said the words that practically made him choke.

"Fuck me."

Her voice didn't crack but it was strained beneath his weight.

His heart was now racing, thumping madly against her chest and his mouth was dry.

_What the hell did she just say?_

Those two words were going to haunt him for years, he'd hear them in his sleep, he'd hear them every time she opened her goddamn mouth. She'd said it so straightforward, as if she was telling him to take down a perp, or to make sure he had her back.

_Fuck me._

He wanted to cry, right then and there because there was no fucking way out of this and what she was suggesting was boarding on insane. He wasn't going to hit her and he wasn't going to fuck her, there had to be another way.

He thought about getting up then, just getting off her, grabbing his clothes and leaving. What would happen? So he didn't go through with it, would they really corner him on it? Who are they to tell him how to spend his own money?

"Olivia-" he started, unsure where his words would take him.

"It doesn't have to be a big deal," she whispered as if she had been waiting for him to respond so she could defend the suggestion.

Not a big deal? As if any cop would do this to save their partners life. He couldn't believe she would even suggest it let alone encourage it. Did she have any idea what she was doing to him? He was beyond mad that the words had even come into her head let alone out of her mouth.

She was still beneath him and he was thankful because all of her writhing and shifting had made his situation south beyond bearable but slowly he was managing to gather some control.

"El," she said softly and he bit into his lip.

_Fuck me._

That's all he heard now, her voice, her body, her breathing, it was all Olivia telling him to fuck her.

He relaxed his grip on her wrists and concentrated on his breathing. They had barely moved in ages, god knows what on earth the people watching them were thinking. His eyes were closed and his face was turned into her neck.

He was still hard against her thigh, of course he was. He'd be hard for life now, hard for her. She was being exceptionally still beneath him and he almost felt the need to thank her. If she so much sneezed right now he'd probably come in his pants.

He focused on her steady rise and fall beneath him and wondered if they could just fall asleep like this. What would happen? Would they wake him up when his hour was over?

He thought about the time then and how long he would have been in here, on her, against her. Perhaps he could just wait it out, extend the foreplay until the time ran out. Then he'd be forced to leave. He wouldn't have to hit or fuck her. He couldn't wait that long he decided, whatever time they had left didn't matter because he could barely wait another minute.

He felt her then, her wrists slowly sliding out from beneath his and he let her, partly out of guilt from holding her down for so long and partly out of curiosity as to what she was going to do.

He held his breath as she let her hands trail down the sides of his torso and he stiffened as they ran over his ribcage and towards his hips. They lingered at his hips and he exhaled into her neck.

Jesus Christ he wanted her, so fucking badly. Her hands roaming over his body was intoxicating, he was sick of fighting it. He wasn't going to have sex with her, he knew that much but he was going to lie here and soak this up while it lasted. He'd spent too long thinking about this, dreaming about this, agonising at the thought of Olivia Benson beneath him. He fucking deserved his, even if this wasn't real.

His lips parted and he pressed them against her neck, he felt her relax slightly against him as her fingertips teased at his hips. He felt her thumbs slide underneath the waistband of his pants and he let his lips brush against her neck. She began to tug them downward and he let her, he was done fighting it. He was only human and he wanted to feel more of her body against his.

His jeans and belt were already open so she slid them down his hips without too much resistance. She got them part way down his thighs and he let out a small groan as his cock rubbed against her through his boxers.

His hand found her neck as he cupped it and ran his thumb down the column as his lips danced against the soft skin of her neck.

It would be so easy, so fucking easy. He wanted to know how ready she would be, how worked up and wet she was. It took everything in him not to find out, all he'd have to do is move his hand between their bodies and smooth across her panties.

She moved her thigh then, the one that had been between his leg and shifted so her legs were either side of his body. She used her legs to then push his pants further down his body until they finally slid down and off the edge of the bed pooling onto the floor.

There was so barrier between them now, no safety net. Her legs were spread either side of his body, their lower halves shielded merely by the thin cotton of his boxes and the smooth satin of her panties.

Her hands were still lingering dangerously at his hips, her thumbs skimming the elastic of his boxers. The woman was pure sin he concluded, he'd give anything to know what was going through her head right now.

_Did she really expect this to actually happen? _

He wanted to kiss her again, he wanted to feel her lips against his and her reaction to him plunging his tongue inside her because he knew this was moments from being over. He knew that outside the confines of these 4 walls, he would never be able to have her like this again. Now however, he had unrestricted, uninhibited access to the women he'd spent the better part of a decade keeping his hands off.

He was a selfish son of a bitch but he was taking this now. His lips moved swiftly off her neck and he moved up making eye contact. He rested his weight on his elbows as he took her in. Her felt her breath hitch at his sudden change in gears and he felt her struggling to control her breathing. He saw it in her eyes, the desire she was trying desperately to mask. She'd told him to fuck her, so that this would end, so that they would both make it out of here alive but it was damn fucking obvious that she just wanted him to fuck her, plain and simple. It made him feel as if he had the edge now, he was now in control of this insanity between them and he was deciding how it was going to end.

His lips crashed down on hers and he pushed her mouth forcibly open with his. He didn't feel her resistance this time, she let him take her. His tongue dove into her mouth and she groaned in response, her hips pushing upward causing jolts of pleasure to vibrate through his cock. He let out a sound that retched deep from his throat into her mouth and all he could think about was ripping off her panties and pushing the length of his hardness into her.

His lips were still glued to hers and he was pulling her bottom lip between his and sucking, he opened her mouth once more and suddenly she was sliding her tongue into his mouth. He groaned in appreciation and slid his tongue into meet with hers. Their tongues wrestled with each other and suddenly he could feel her hand attempting to get between their bodies and into boxer shorts. All he wanted now is to feel her hand wrap around him and wondered if that would be so bad.

_Would there be no going back? _

He thought about their partnership then. Would anything ever be the same again? Could they still work together? Would she give him some bullshit excuse that because they had to do what they did it was over. Would she walk away from him again? The thought of losing her stopped him dead in his tracks.

His lips dipped back to her ear.

"You're my partner," he said his voice slightly strained. He felt her twist against him at his words, unsure what he was getting at.

"We're not doing this." He confirmed and he felt her body go rigid against his. "I'm walking out of here," he told her purposefully.

"You son of a-" Her voice was a little too loud for his liking but she cut herself off before he did.

"They will kill us Elliot," she said through gritted teeth and he could feel the anger behind the words, what the hell had she seen and experienced here? How capable were these people?

Without thinking another clear thought his hand launched up and grabbed her around the neck. He squeezed just enough to cause a reaction. He was reverting back to plan B and he needed this to look somewhat convincing.

She yelped beneath him, her eyes widened with confusion, her arms instinctively flew up to encircle his wrists and tried to pull him off her. He latched onto her neck and she struggled, clawing at his fingers, trying to pry them off her.

"Get- off me," she yelled, her voice strained from his grasp and for a moment he wasn't sure if she knew this was just for show.

She was using her hands to hit him, swiping at his chest in an effort to free herself before he knew it she had slapped him hard across the face and his hands instantly released her from impact.

She scrambled beneath him, rolling over onto her chest and trying to escape. He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her back to him, his bare chest colliding with her back. She was defiant in her struggling and he was somewhat impressed.

"Let me go," she yelled loudly as she twisted against him, which he assumed was for the benefit of witnesses and not a direct command. She was trying to twist herself off the bed completely but he wasn't letting up so he held onto her. In one quick movement he lost hold of gravity and they fell off the edge of the bed and crashed in a heap on the ground.

She fell onto her chest and he fell on top of her, his erection pressing into her backside. Fuck he was still turned on with all her writhing and it was embarrassing as hell.

He used this opportunity to whisper behind her ear with concern.

"You ok?"

He'd realised she'd fallen face first into the carpet with his insane amount of weight on top of her and she could be in pain. He tried to shift his lower half so it wasn't pressing into her and suddenly he felt a jab in his side as she elbowed him. He winced in pain and rolled over onto his side.

She managed to crawl a fair distance before she started to get to her feet when he launched over and grabbed her ankle, sliding her back towards him. She let out a sound of resistance as he wrapped his arms around her waist and tugged her back to him. She used her legs to kick at him but he could tell she was holding back, the slap on the face, the blow to his side, it was all mild retaliation for the sake of the cameras.

He didn't know what he was supposed to do. She wanted him to hit her but that was out of the question. She told him to grab her, hold her and get rough with her, but would that be enough for the cameras or would they just think they were role-playing?

As he pulled her backwards against him, his grip still on her waist, her back fell against his chest and her ass sank into his erection. He felt her body instantly relax against him, her fight leaving her and his nose sunk into the back of her hair inhaling her scent, it was intoxicating. She melted against him and he felt the gentle rise and fall of her breathing as he held her. Jesus Christ, she needed to act like she was in danger, not enjoying this.

"Fight me god damn it," he rasped in her ear but she didn't move, she just lay there against him. He wanted to shake the damn woman.

He cleared his throat and tried a different angle.

"This won't end if they think you want me," he whispered the words, his fingertips subtly moving against the skin at her waist. It had been a bold move, he'd just called her on it. Accusing her of wanting him, being so turned on that she can barely move let alone fight him.

It worked, she felt her tense in his arms and elbow him hard in the gut, a lot harder than she'd done previously and he rolled away clutching his side. She got up scrambling to her feet and he launched after her. Just as she got close to the door he grabbed her and flung her towards the wall. Her arms came up just in time stopping herself from running face first into the wall. He came up behind her, his body caging hers from escape. She moved around and swung at him, he ducked just in time and pushed her up against the wall.

He seized her wrists and held her body captive with his, his lips dipping to her ear.

"That's better," he whispered hotly, he couldn't help but be turned on by her fight. She used her hips to try and push him off her and she tried to twist her body away from him. He closed his eyes, his erection was now pushing into her stomach and all of her writhing was weakening him once more.

"Get off me," she said slightly out of breath, she arched her back trying to twist away from him, her breasts pushing harder into his chest. He moved her wrists together and seized them in one hand and then reached down grabbing her hip, his hands touching the material of her panties. It occurred to him then that he was fighting his partner in nothing but their underwear. He held her against the wall by her hip, separating their lower halves in the struggle.

"I said get off me," she rasped, getting more agitated by the minute. He couldn't figure out if this was part of the act or if she really wanted him off her. She struggled to pull her wrists from his grasp, tugging and twisting.

"Make me," he told her directly. Not as a threat but to let her know that was up to her.

She twisted more intently at his blunt response and let out an exasperated groan at her frustration. He could tell she was nearing the edge.

He moved in closer about to say something when she beat him to the punch.

"Loosen your grip Elliot, unless you want me to knee you where it hurts," she rasped. Her thigh was between his legs and he wondered if she meant she had no way of defending herself unless she resorted to that, or if she really was going to knee him in the balls.

He was going to risk finding out so he loosened his grip and she wasted no time pulling her wrists from his capture and slapping him hard across the face.

His hand came up to soften the burn and she grabbed the lamp that was resting on the side table and yanked it out from the power point. He turned just in time to see it coming down at him, he reached out and grabbed her wrist just before it hit him. The lamp hit the floor and he pushed her onto the bed. They came down in a heap as the mattress bowed beneath their weight and he grabbed her chin, holding her so he looked her dead in the eyes.

"What the hell was that?" he yelled a little too loud.

She blinked a couple of times but didn't answer him.

"Strangle me with the chord of the lamp," she said in a whisper and his eyes narrowed in on her. She couldn't be serious. He pulled his grip from her chin and she swallowed.

"If you're not going to hit me, strangle me," she told him firmly.

He knew what she was saying, their pathetic attempt at a struggle was registering shit, if they wanted to make an impact, he had to make it seem as if her life was on the line.

His eyes searched hers for a brief moment as he struggled internally with having to take this to the next level. He could tell she knew this was hard for him, but there was no other way.

He moved off her quickly, before he had a chance to change his mind and grabbed the lamp from the ground. He watched as she too moved off the bed portraying her attempt at an escape. He held his breath as he pegged the lamp, missing her head by mere inches and shattering against the wall behind her. Her mouth dropped open at what he'd just done and how close she was to reaping the impact.

He didn't have time to think about it, he knew he had good aim and thank god it paid off. He moved quickly, grabbing the chord with a broken piece of the lamp still attached to the end. He launched at her grabbing her around the waist, almost tackling her in the process and she let out a shriek. He wasn't sure if it was real or she was putting it on but he prayed it was the latter. She struggled against him, making sounds of protest as he managed to wrap the chord around her neck. Her hands came up immediately trying to defuse the tightness.

He pulled the chord a fair amount, he wasn't sure how tight he had to do it to make it believable but he needed a reaction out of her so he squeezed it a little tighter. A strained howl escaped from her lips and Olivia almost lost her footing and fell to the ground. He used his body so that she fell against him instead and he loosened it somewhat.

"You ok-" he whispered into her hair but she cut him off.

"Help," she screamed it still tugging at the chord and he was praying she was just a good actress.

"Help me!" she continued, it occurred to him then that he should probably silence her as that would be what would happen in a situation like this. Just as she was about to scream again his hand came up covering her mouth muffling her cry.

She continued to scream against his hand, the muffled protest would have barely been heard now. He wanted so badly for this to be over. What the hell was going on? Why wasn't anyone rushing to her aid? He knew this was just an act but it wasn't easy, he still felt like shit, it still felt a little too close to home, they saw this kind of thing everyday.

She was still struggling and moaning her concern but it was getting weaker by the moment. Just as he was about to ask her what they should do next he felt something against his hand. His eyes narrowed, his hand covering her mouth was damp and he realised quite quickly that the warm liquid running over his hands were her tears.

_Fuck._

He immediately loosened the chord at her neck and his hand from her mouth. She dropped then, her whole body fell to the floor, he launched forward to catch her but he wasn't fast enough. She hit the floor face first. He moved quickly, turning her onto her back, her eyes were closed and there were mascara stains part way down her cheek. His heart was thumping a mile as he reached out to check her pulse, his hand was shaking as he held two fingers firm against her neck for one, two, three –

The door burst open suddenly and a flood of men came in dressed in back, armed with guns, screaming at him to get down on the ground. He complied immediately, holding his hands up in surrender and bowing close to the ground. The panic of the situation was overwhelming, what the hell had happened to Olivia, one moment she was struggling, the next moment she was limp in his arms. He couldn't have been squeezing the chord that tight, could he?

The last thing he heard was one of the men talking to another before the cold hard metal of the gun hit him square in the temple.

"Take her."

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Wow thanks for the kind words guys, really appreciate it. I wasn't sure what reaction this would get and in hindsight I probably should have put a disclaimer on it to warn you it was pretty dark. Whoops. To be honest I hadn't thought much beyond chapter 1 but due to your response I didn't want to disappoint. I hope this is up your ally..

**Chapter 2**

She was awake. She had been the whole time.

From the moment she went limp in Elliot's arms and fallen to the ground she had been completely conscious. She had wanted it to be over, she thought she was expediting the process by making it look like he'd finished her off.

She had heard the men, the yelling, the hard thump that had silenced Elliot and it had taken everything in her not to open her eyes and rush to his aid.

_Take her._

Wherever it was they were taking her she was on her way. She was lying on a stretcher in the back of a wagon, no one had checked to see if she was alive, breathing or conscious.

The voices hadn't been familiar which confused her and they had thick accents she couldn't place. Two weeks she had been undercover, she knew who operated the organisation and yet whoever ransacked the room was not a part of it.

She had already assessed the back of the truck and it could only be opened from the outside. It looked like a paddy wagon from the 1970s, old, dingy and smelt of rust.

It had to be at least 2 hours on the road until the wagon finally pulled to a determined stop and she heard the engine die. Her heart rate accelerated at the sound of the driver and passenger getting out of the car, slamming their doors and heading towards the back of the van.

She heard what sounded like a car pulling to a stop just outside the back of the van. Their car doors opened followed by determined footsteps.

That's when she heard the three letters that made her exhale with relief.

"FBI!"

There was scurrying, a loud thump and then two piercing gunshots. She heard one body drop to the floor and another thump against the back of the wagon before sliding to the ground.

She sucked in a breath, praying to anyone who would listen that the men who took the shots were the federal agents.

The deadbolt of the wagon clunked open and she squeezed her eyes shut against the daylight that poured in.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Elliot came charging into the precinct and made a beeline to Cragen's office.

Fin and Munch rose from their desks as if they had been eagerly anticipating his return. He bypassed them without so much as a look and pushed open Cragen's door without knocking.

"Anything?" His voice was shaky and all he could manage at that point were practically monosyllables.

He had come to in the ally adjacent to the gentleman's club and despite the gash on the side of his head he remembered everything. He had grabbed his cell phone and weapon from the car he'd parked 3 blocks away and immediately informed Cragen of Olivia's abduction.

Despite Cragen's strict instructions to return to the precinct he'd gone back inside the club to search in vein for any clue as to where they might have taken her. His stomach rolled when he found the whole place was empty, there was not a soul in any of the 40 or so rooms he could find. The whole place had been abandoned.

"I told you to come straight back here," Cragen started in anger.

"You can pull all the resources you like from here but we're against the clock and I needed to assess the scene of the crime," Elliot defended.

"Did you find anything?" Cragen cut to the chase.

Elliot swallowed, breaking eye contact just briefly before he returned it.

"No." His voice cracked slightly.

He could tell Cragen was doing his best not to set Elliot off.

He nodded before motioning to the chair.

"Sit down and tell me everything."

**:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: **

She had been sitting in a holding room at the Federal Bureau of Investigation in Washington D.C. for what had to be bordering on 5 hours now.

She was losing her patience by the minute but kept reminding herself that she got lucky and could have still been driving in that dingy wagon to god knows where.

They had pulled the wagon over somewhere in South Philadelphia, uncuffed her from the stretcher, gave her the sheet to wrap herself in and led her to the back of their vehicle without a word.

They then proceeded to drive her another 2 hours or so to Washington D.C despite her insistence that she was a detective with Manhattan's special victims unit involved in an undercover operation and needed to return to New York City immediately.

When she got no response from them whatsoever she gave up. She figured once they got to the Bureau she would demand to speak to someone in charge and clear this mess up immediately.

Only she'd been sitting here for 5 hours in a small room without so much as a look in. She'd requested countless phone calls, demanded to speak to a federal agent and had caused an absolute stir at the treatment a New York detective had received. It had gotten her nowhere.

She had resorted to sitting there quietly starring at the wall.

_What the hell was going on?_

Her mind had been racing for hours and she was starting to feel nauseous. She wouldn't let herself think about Elliot. She would drive herself mad imagining the numerous potentially fatal scenarios he could have endured after they knocked him out. He was fine she concluded, he had to be.

She looked down at the faded t-shirt and sweat pants they had given her once she had arrived and realised it had dramatically cheapened her credibility. She kept insisting she was Detective Olivia Benson and to contact Donald Cragen but with no ID, no credentials and no clothes she had little to no hope.

It was Oregon all over again.

That triggered a memory and she felt insanely dense for not thinking of it sooner.

She shot up out of her seat and rushed over to where the guard was flicking through some paperwork and banged on the door.

The guard rolled his eyes and slowly and unenthusiastically pulled the door open a smidge.

"Dean Porter," she said in a rush, as if that would speed up the process.

"Please can you tell him Olivia Benson is here? He can vouch for me." The desperation in her voice was intense.

"I'm not going to ask you again - sit down and wait your God. Damn. Turn," the guard's harsh voice rasped.

She wasn't sure why she was waiting her turn, she was the only one they had taken from the wagon. From what she had heard and witnessed her captors had both been killed.

She considered pushing the matter. Surely knowing an agent would aid her case but from the attitude she had received from this guard over the past 5 hours it seemed nothing would expedite the process. She would just have to wait it out.

It had to have been at least another 3 to 4 hours later when she heard it. The door opening and the guard's brash voice.

"Number 39."

She had no idea that was her number but he had opened the door and was motioning to her.

She took in the two federal agents standing tall in their suits. As she stood up the younger one looked her up and down and the older one crossed his arms in front of him in defence.

She was trying to ascertain which one was the good cop.

They led her into the small, dark interview room and as the door clicked close her instincts told her it was neither.

**::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**

There was a rasp at the door and Elliot looked over at his shoulder. It was Fin.

Elliot had just finished describing the situation to Cragen just prior to Olivia's abduction. He had carefully omitted any of the sexual encounters and focused solely on their violent performance devised in an effort to be ejected from the club. He explained that there was a camera in the room and if they so much as looked suspect Olivia had warned they'd both be killed.

Cragen motioned for Fin to enter.

"Sorry Cap, we just had confirmation that they did a full canvas of the club and the only thing that turned up was this."

Fin held out a DVD in a thin plastic case.

"What is it?" Elliot narrowed his eyes in curiosity.

"Footage from Room 13."

**::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**

"Sit down Ms…" the older one started.

"Detective Olivia Benson," she finished for them in the most professional manner she could muster.

The younger one scoffed and pulled out his own chair.

"Right and I'm Brad Pitt and this is David Letterman."

She considered having a go at his loose comparison to Brad Pitt but thought better of it.

"Like I told your guard out there and the two agents who drove me here I'm detective Olivia Benson with Manhattan Special Victims unit. I've been undercover at Sin for 2 weeks, my badge number is-"

The young one slammed his hand down on the table and it echoed through the small room.

"Shut your mouth, I don't want to hear anymore BS. We've just interviewed 38 women from Sin all claiming to be someone they aren't, so let's start with your real name and how long you've been selling your body."

Her eyebrows drew together in confusion. They had all the women from Sin here. Who were the men that stormed their room and why were the FBI now involved? Knowing these guys wouldn't offer up any of those answers for free she tried her wild card.

"Dean Porter," she said determinedly. "He knows me, he can vouch for me."

He lent back in his chair as if he were considering the validity of the name drop. A few moments passed and he smiled, dismissing it.

"Dean wouldn't associate with someone like you," he said shaking his head.

"Please just call him," she stressed, scratching her temple with her knuckle.

"How do you know him? What, did you find his business card somewhere?" he said with scepticism.

"We used to date." She had said it before she had time to assess whether it was the right avenue to take.

The young one chuckled, shaking his head.

"You're not his type." He looked her up and down again.

"Look, one phone call and you'll get your confirmation and we can move on. I'm willing to answer any questions you have, but you need to know who I am first."

"What do you know about the men you worked for?" he said dismissing her entirely.

"Jesus Christ," she mumbled under her breath leaning back in her chair.

A few moments of silence passed as he waited for her to continue. When he realised she wasn't going to talk he lent back in his chair matching her body language.

"If you refuse to cooperate you're only going to make this worse for yourself. We can hold you here for 48 hours at a minimum, and if I think I have just cause I say the word and I can have that extended to 96. This is a federal matter, not a pissy juvenile felony. I don't think you understand the gravity of the situation and just how much power I have, so you better start talking."

_What the hell was going on? This extended a lot further than she thought._

She shook her head and rested her head in her hands. Her brain was racing at just how she was going to play this. He wasn't responding to honesty. She needed more information about what was going on so she could determine how to proceed. She realised he had never actually introduced himself, nor had Letterman.

She looked up at him.

"Can I please see your ID?" she said quietly.

His eyes narrowed in on her, ready to let loose.

"As a federal agent it's protocol to identify yourself when conducting an interview or any such investigation. So," her words drifted off, "can I see your ID?"

He looked over at Letterman and once he got the nod he pulled his badge out of his breast pocket and practically threw it open on the table in front of her.

"Special Agent Lucas Silverman – International Human Trafficking."

The penny dropped.

Olivia's stomach rolled and she felt a pang of nausea hit. She glanced down at the badge for confirmation but she couldn't get her mind off those three words.

_International Human Trafficking._

"Those men that took me, they were…" her words trailed off and she could feel the bile rising.

"You have no idea how god damn lucky you and the other 38 women we picked up today are, so how about you return the favour by telling us everything you know about the management at Sin."

**::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**

Elliot's heart began to race.

Footage from the room. Footage of him with Olivia.

Footage of his hands all over her, grabbing her breasts, her ass, pinning her to the bed, kissing her, pulling her dress down.

Footage of him throwing her at the wall, pegging a lamp at her, strangling her with the cord.

Jesus Christ. He didn't care if it was all just for show, he knew how it would look.

He stood up and grasped the DVD from Fin's hands.

"What is this going to tell us that I can't?" The words came out in a rush and he was gripping onto the DVD for dear life.

Cragen's brow furrowed in confusion.

"It's our best shot Elliot, there could be something on there that you missed. Something that could give us an indication of who took her."

"This won't tell us anything. I already told you a group of men dressed in black armed with guns swarmed the room and took her. That's it."

"How many men? What type of guns?" Cragen pushed trying to prove a point.

He felt his face getting heated and his mouth go dry.

"6 or 7 men, maybe 8, machine guns." He really couldn't be sure, he'd hit the ground so fast. He was pulling at straws and he knew Cragen wasn't buying any of his feigned confidence.

"You said they knocked you out before they took her. You of all people should want to know what happened next." Cragen was looking at him like he was insane.

Elliot rubbed his eyes knowing there would be nothing he could say to stop the tape from playing.

"What aren't you telling me Elliot?" Cragen's voice was low.

When Elliot didn't respond Fin grasped the DVD from his hold and inserted it into the DVD player.

**::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**

"For the last time I already told you my name." Olivia's patience was wearing thin.

Special Agent Silverman glared at her scratching at the stubble on his chin. A reminder that after 38 interviews he was probably feeling just as exhausted as she was.

She couldn't remember the last time she ate something and her head was pounding from dehydration.

"Can I have some water please," she said rubbing her forehead to alleviate the pounding.

"I'm going to call you Jane Doe, because I'm done with this charade. So Jane, I want details of the men you work for. "

Jane Doe was a name reserved for unidentifiable dead women, not her.

"I told you, I only knew them by first name, John, Richard, George and Jimmy or was it James," she tried to recall the name of the larger one who had felt her up when she first started.

She shuddered at the memory.

"So you were employed by the Beatles." Letterman spoke for the first time since they'd entered the room and both Olivia and Silverman looked over at him.

"What are you talking about, it's John, George, Paul and Ringo." Silverman corrected.

"Ringo's real name was Richard Starkey and Paul was Paul McCartney's middle name, his full name was Sir James Paul McCartney."

Silverman looked like he was about to lose his shit.

"What do the god damn Beatles have to do with anything?"

"Please I haven't had water in days," Olivia pressed.

Silverman was still shaking his head at the irrelevance of the Beatles.

"Fine, Agent Cornett, can you please get Ms Doe a glass of water."

Letterman was Agent Cornett.

_Cornett, Cornett, Cornett. _

She repeated the name in her head knowing she'd need this information at a later date.

The door clicked shut and Silverman pulled at his lip as he watched Olivia under a heated gaze and she felt the tension in the room shift suddenly at Cornett's exit.

"Now Jane, you look like a beautiful intelligent woman." His eyes drifted down to her lips and further down over her breasts.

"Why don't you make this easy on both of us and give me what I need." His voice had taken on a softer approach and the alarm bells began to sound.

"Then in return, I'll give you what you need. Your freedom."

Jesus Christ. This was never ending, was she reading this right? Was he really propositioning her?

She felt rusty from the dehydration.

"Oh yeah, and what exactly do you _need_ Agent Silverman," she matched his soft tone and looked him dead in the eyes.

She just dared him to fuck with her at this point.

He watched her for a good moment, as if he were debating whether or not he'd continue down this avenue or backtrack.

She did her best not to look intimidated and just followed him with her eyes as he stood up and took the few short steps to round the table to meet the side of her face.

With one hand on the table and one hand on the back of her chair he lent in.

"You still sticking with your sex crimes story," he whispered in her ear and her stomach dropped.

She willed herself to keep it together. She turned her head to meet his eye contact, he was so close they nearly bumped noses.

"Special Victims," she corrected with assurance.

His eyes bored holes through hers before they dipped once more to her lips. For a moment she thought he was actually going to lean in and try and kiss her.

She remained perfectly still and waited him out.

"Stand up," he instructed and her heart began to race.

What were the odds that the Federal Agent in charge of her case was a sexual predator? She wondered how many of the other 38 women had received this kind of treatment.

At least she knew Silverman, his type, how to play them out.

As she stood up she noticed he was careful not to touch her, but her personal space was shot to hell. If he moved the slightest bit closer they'd collide.

He smelt of sweat and coffee.

"No ID, no weapon, no badge, no clothes, no fucking way you're a cop," he whispered to the side of his face.

She looked straight ahead unaffected.

"That's generally the perception you want to create when you're undercover," she said with sarcasm turning to face him.

He shook his head, still not buying it.

"Then prove it to me," he whispered gently.

"Call Dean. Call my precinct. Finger print me for godsake and you'll have all the proof you need," she finished off in a yell.

"No," he said gruffly, kicking the chair away from the back of her legs until it hit the wall.

"Prove to me, that you're not going to take my shit," he said loudly as he backed her up against the table.

"Prove to me that you're not some common sex worker and that you have the training, skills and intelligence to warn off a predator," he finished as her backside collided with the cold metal table.

He had her cornered but he still hadn't made contact with her body.

"Is that what you are Silverman, a predator?" She looked him dead in the eyes and waited patiently for his answer.

He looked past her towards the door as if he was expecting Cornett to come through it at any minute.

"Is that why you work for Human Trafficking, you've always had sick curiosity for over powering women," she jabbed. "You can't get it with your charm so you get it with your badge and your power."

It was a routine she'd pulled more times than she could ever count, pry into their personal and professional lives and accuse them of unspeakable things until they cracked.

"38 interviews Agent Silverman," she said with disgust.

"How many put up a fight?" she pushed.

His eyes flicked back and forth between hers, he looked stunned and a little taken aback. She was holding her breath waiting for him to respond, lash out, grab her. She was acting brazen and cocky but her heart was thumping a mile, she couldn't for the life of her read this guy and how exactly he was going to take this.

She did the only thing she could, pushed further.

"So what's the deal, they go down on you while Cornett gets them water," she said casually raising her eyebrows.

"Or are you more of a home run kind of a guy," she pushed with an exaggerated smile.

She waited a few anxious seconds, expecting him to wack the smile off her face at any moment.

He surprised her by pulling back and stepping away from her slowly. She watched as he made his way towards the door and her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

She just looked on as he clicked the door shut behind him and left her alone in the small, dark room.

**::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**

Elliot shook his head as he watched the screen flicker for a millisecond before the black and white vision of the empty room came up. It was an anxious waiting game as he watched on knowing that at any moment the door to the room would open and he was about to lose his partner.

In more ways than one.

Fin started to fast-forward impatiently and Elliot stole a glance at Cragen who was watching his reaction intently.

As Fin hit play Elliot's eyes flicked back to the screen as he saw Olivia enter first, followed shortly by himself. Elliot bit into his lip as he watched her move, pushing him up against the door, pulling off his jacket and moving in to whisper in his ear.

"Fast forward it to the end," Elliot said gruffly determined not to make eye contact with either of them.

"No." Cragen dismissed him.

A few moments later she was lying on the bed and Elliot was moving on top of her.

Elliot looked away.

"It had to look convincing," he defended under his breath, embarrassed as all hell.

Before he knew it he was shirtless and she was climbing on top of him. The room was silent and no one moved, their eyes were glued to the screen as Olivia moved down his chest and attempted to undo his pants. He could sense the room holding their breath at the potential turn this could take and relaxed once they saw him pull her back up his body.

Minutes that felt like hours passed and suddenly he was kissing her, hard. His hand running over her ass, under her dress, pulling it up so far the camera caught a glimpse of her barely there lace panties.

"Seriously, can we fast forward, you get the idea."

Elliot reached out and grabbed the remote from Fin and hit the fast forward button. He wasn't going to stand there and take this nor should she.

After a few moments Fin retrieved the remote and hit play. Olivia's dress had been removed, Elliot's pants were gone and they were in a heated passionate kiss that made Elliot's breath catch.

He could still taste her. Feel her. Hear her moaning.

"Jesus Christ," Cragen called out shaking his head. "Turn it off."

Elliot snatched the remote back and hit stop.

"Damn." Fin turned to Elliot in shock.

"Look, you don't understand, we couldn't blow our cover or they'd kill us, it had to look legit." Elliot had this defences up.

"Well you sure had us fooled," Fin responded with sarcasm.

Cragen stood up and took the remote from Elliot.

"Fin, give us a minute would you," Cragen insisted.

Fin gave Elliot a look before he left, like he couldn't believe his eyes and it made Elliot feel like shit. If only Olivia was here to help defend the situation with him, only he knew it didn't deserve a defence because it was completely uncalled for, unjust and out of line.

Cragen waited for Fin to shut the door before turning to Elliot.

"I know-" Elliot started, trying to defuse the accusation before it started.

"We're not watching anymore of this," Cragen cut him off. "I want you to tell me how it ends and no BS this time."

Elliot opened his mouth and then shut it again trying to remember exactly what happened next or where they'd even stopped the tape. His mind was blank.

"Tell me you two didn't.." Cragen's words trailed off as his eyes pierced his for confirmation.

When Elliot registered what he was implying he was quick to act.

"No, God no." Elliot responded as if there thought were inconceivable. When really.

_Fuck me._

Elliot rubbed his hand over his face.

"We didn't."

Cragen let out the breath he was holding.

"Then what?"

"I kept telling her that we should simulate and she kept telling me to hit her. That they had a no violence policy and I'd be kicked out."

"Jesus, tell me you didn't," Cragen began.

"No, God no. I didn't hit her. I just pretended to get rough with her, like I was saying before, with the lamp."

Cragen looked at the remote in his hand and turned back to the TV, with a deep exhale he clicked play.

He only had to fast forward a little until she was scrambling out beneath him and he was grabbing her, the two of them falling off the bed and onto the ground.

Then nothing.

The bed was blocking the view of the camera and for that small solace Elliot was thankful.

Cragen turned to Elliot as if he expected him to fill in the blanks but Elliot just stared ahead, anxiously awaiting what came next. His memory was shaky and he couldn't for the life of him remember what happened in which order.

They came back into view and his eyes widened when he threw her at the wall. He could see she was moments from face planting if she hadn't put her hands out in time.

She took a swing at him, he ducked and he pushed her up against the wall, seizing her writs.

Jesus.

He looked away, he couldn't watch this anymore. It made him sick. He turned around and ran a hand through his hair. He stared at the wall as Cragen continued to look on.

He heard a small noise come from Cragen and wondered if he'd just seen him peg the lamp at her head or strangle her with the cord. Both equally painful memories that he'd never be able to erase.

He turned around just in time to see the men swarm the room. It looked like a movie, not his life. Not his partner lying on the ground with a cord wrapped around her neck.

There were 4 men in total, not 8, all holding what appeared to be assault rifles, not machine guns. Possibly M16's although he couldn't be sure as the majority had their backs to the camera.

They were wearing unmarked black clothing with balaclavas. He realised with a pang of disappointment that hit him deep that they would have no chance of concrete IDs when all that was in view were small slits where their eyes peered out.

He looked on as his comatose body lay limp on the ground after the blow to the head. Two men then grabbed Olivia's still body and carried her out of the room.

Was it part of the act or had he pulled the cord too tight?

Cragen and Elliot looked on in disbelief as the room emptied out and it was just Elliot who was lying there unconscious. A few moments passed and Cragen pressed fast forward for what felt like an eternity. He hit stop suddenly when he saw a large man in a business suit enter the room and drag Elliot out by his ankles.

Cragen hit pause on the clearest shot of the man's face he could manage and looked over at Elliot.

Elliot nodded.

"That's the guy that took my money."

Cragen ejected the DVD from the player and put it back in it's case, handing it to Elliot.

"Get this across to Jacobson, I want firearm identification and an ethnicity ID of the 4 gun men."

**::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**

Olivia opened her eyes and for a moment she had no idea where she was.

As she sat up she realised she had fallen asleep on the interview table. She had only meant to rest her eyes while she waited for Agent Silverman or Cornett to return.

Her body must have really needed sleep. The past two weeks had been a painful whirlwind of sleepless nights. She constantly had to have her guard up and only slept in small increments. Now, regardless of the fact that she was still held against her will, she felt a great deal safer in the hands of the FBI than the management at Sin.

She instinctively looked down at her wrist hoping to get the time from her watch but remembered with frustration that she hadn't worn it since she went undercover.

She had no idea how long she'd been sleeping but her back was stiff and her head was pounding like she had the hangover of the century. It must have been at least 4-6 hours.

She rubbed her face and pushed the chair out from underneath her. She moved across to the two-way mirror and took in her reflection, she had marks on her face where she'd slept against her wrist and her hair looked like a mess. She did her best to rub off the excess eyeliner that had smudged beneath her eyes.

She tried to piece together the time.

Say she was asleep for 5 hours just now, plus 1 hour in the interview room, 8 in the waiting room, 4.5 with the drive from NYC to Philly to DC. That's nearly 20 hours she'd been technically missing. 24 and it would be official.

She needed to get to a phone.

She banged on the glass window.

"Hey, can I get some water in here!" she yelled, her voice cracking she was so parched.

This was ridiculous. It was inhumane.

If this was a tactic to get her to talk by withholding water she was going to lose it.

They didn't even pull this kind of crap when interviewing perps, food maybe but not water.

The door opened and Silverman calmly walked back in holding a bottle of Evian.

Her eyes went straight to the bottle and she'd never been more thankful to see water in her life. She stepped forward to retrieve it, reaching out.

Silverman held it away from her, holding up his hand.

"Sit down," he told her directly.

She narrowed her eyes at him and wasn't going to take no for an answer.

"Give it to me," she stepped forward to snatch it and he grabbed her wrist, twisting it gently and then a little harder until she recoiled.

"Sit. Down," he repeated with more anger.

"Jesus," she shook her wrist, glaring at him. This was insane.

She wanted to tell him to go fuck himself but knew better, it would get her nowhere.

She walked back to the seat and took her place and watched as he did the same, resting the water bottle right next to him out of her reach.

"The two men in the wagon, did they talk to you?" he asked her softly.

"No," she answered with a sigh.

"They didn't say one word to you?" he asked in disbelief.

"No," she repeated.

"Did you come in contact with the other two men?" he asked with a look of anxiousness in his eyes.

"What other two men?" she asked confused.

His shoulders slumped as if he had been counting on a different response.

"There were 4 men in total," he stressed.

She closed her eyes and tried to recall the situation in the room when it was swarmed. She was on the floor with her eyes shut the entire time, she'd heard the yelling and the footsteps. There could have easily been 4 men in the room, but only 2 men had taken her into the wagon.

"There were only 2 men in the wagon," she reiterated.

"So at no point did you come in contact with the other two men?" he asked again with more urgency.

She rubbed her face, she was exhausted.

"There could have been 4 men earlier but only 2 men took me to the wagon," she sighed.

"What do you mean there could have been 4 men earlier?" he yelled.

She could see the frustration building in Silverman's face at her off the hand remark. Her eyes returned to the water and she didn't shift her focus from the bottle.

Her mouth was so fucking dry.

"Alright," Silverman recoiled, attempting to calm himself down. "Just start at the beginning, where were you when they took you?"

"I was in one of the rooms at Sin," she began.

She thought of Elliot then, in the room with her just before she was taken. She had successfully blocked him out of her thoughts for the past 20 or so hours but now images of him beaten, maimed and killed were swarming her mind. She needed to know if he was ok, just one god forsaken phone call and she would tell her story a thousand times over.

"I need to make a phone call," she said quietly.

Silverman rubbed his face and slammed his fist on the table.

"You were in a room," he repeated prompting her to just continue.

She looked down at his wrist that remained on the table and tried to get a glimpse of the time. She couldn't see from the angle but it looked like it was 10 o'clock.

AM or PM she didn't know, there were no windows in the room.

"How long did you leave me in here?" she asked in defence.

When Silverman didn't respond she tried again.

"How long was I asleep?" she pushed harder.

"About 10 hours," he said casually.

Her eyes widened and she realised then that he was wearing a different shirt, had shaved his 5 o'clock shadow and smelt like fresh coffee. She was too out of it earlier to notice any of these changes.

She hadn't slept a full 10 hours straight in years. She quickly did the math in her head.

"Look, I know you need my help in this investigation Agent Silverman otherwise you would have released me hours ago, but I need yours too. I have been technically missing for over 24 hours, I need to make a phone call, I need to drink that water and I need to use the restroom. So if you want cooperation from a New York detective who appears to be your only shot at some sold leads right now, you need to allow me my basic human rights."

His eyes narrowed in on her and he took in a breath before responding.

"Contrary to your belief you aren't our only shot at this, we've been investigating this operation for years now. You think we'd let you sleep for 10 hours if you were an integral part of solving this. It's simply protocol to conduct this interview, obtain the necessary details and then you can get the hell out."

She considered his statement for a short moment before she ascertained it was pure bullshit. He didn't want to let on how much they needed her for fear that she'd put on the breaks.

He wanted her to talk for her freedom.

"You called Dean didn't you," she said calmly.

He looked away for a quick moment before returning eye contact.

"You checked my story out while I was asleep and realised I wasn't BS-ing you," she pushed.

He didn't answer her either way.

"Do you realise what my Captain is going to do once he hears about the treatment I've been receiving here. If you don't give me that god damn water right now, they will take your badge and your gun the moment he contacts your superior."

She watched his jaw click as he considered her.

He opened his mouth to respond but was interrupted by a sharp bang against the two-way mirror.

They both looked over at the mirror shaking just slightly from the rattle and she smiled internally knowing she had him. That had to be a superior or Cornett calling the shots.

It was then that Silverman slowly slid the water in her direction. She tried not to let the relief reach her eyes at the knowledge that she had him.

She reached out to grasp the bottle, he was still holding it and staring at her intently.

"Details," he told her, a warning of the trade they were about to make.

She finally pulled the bottle from his grasp and sat back in her chair considering him. She slowly began to twist the cap off, keeping her cool as if she weren't desperately craving the contents.

She took a sip and it was bliss, she took a gulp and then another and by the time she got half way through the bottle she just skulled the remainder of the contents.

He watched her with out a word until she'd drained it dry. She screwed the cap back on and placed the empty bottle next to her.

"Thank you," she said still keeping her cool.

He didn't respond, didn't acknowledge her, not even with a nod. He was still clenching his jaw in anticipation of how she'd choose play this.

"So now it's just the restroom and the phone call and I'm all yours," she said with a polite smile.

"Listen lady-" he began in anger.

"Detective Benson," she corrected, matching his volume. She knew he had a problem addressing her by name, it would mean he was admitting fault.

"You can have your restroom break if you make it quick, but no phone call," he pressed.

"I get both or you get nothing out of me, be smart about this Agent Silverman and stop wasting your time," she pushed back.

"Agent Cornett will take you to the restroom, but this is a matter of international security and there will no phone calls until we get this straightened out," he said definitively.

When she opened her mouth to retort and he cut her off.

"It's protocol _detective_, you should know all about that," he said almost mocking her.

Her heart dropped at the realisation that he was serious. She wouldn't get her phone call, she wouldn't hear of Elliot's condition and she was officially in the hands of the FBI for as long as they deemed necessary.

**::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**

Elliot lay there starring up at the base of the cot above him.

Cragen had ordered him to get some sleep, they'd been working the case all through the night and apart from awaiting the results of the weapon and ethnicity IDs there was nothing they could do.

He had told Cragen to wake him up as soon as the results came in but even then, how much could that tell them?

Fin was downstairs searching for any background, history and past employees he could find from Sin and Cragen was reviewing the last scene of the tape over and over in the hope that some clue would miraculously register.

Elliot couldn't watch it anymore.

What the hell was going on? Who swarmed the room? What happened to the workers and management at Sin in the time he was unconscious. Who took Olivia?

He squeezed his eyes shut. She had seemed so worried about the fate that was awaiting them and he had no idea. Did she really know that was coming?

14 dead women, raped and beaten over the course of 8 months. Then suddenly 40 women vanish.

He bit into his lip.

No.

She was fine. She had to be, they couldn't possibly execute 40 women like that.

The deaths had been sporadic. A body would turn up every fortnight or so until they put together their common link, they all worked at Sin. That's when Cragen decided they needed someone on the inside.

Then again that look in her eye, she knew something that he didn't. She feared for their lives to the point where she'd do anything to save them. Anything.

What if the management at Sin twigged that they were being watched and panicked, executing each and every worker and witness at Sin.

No.

Fuck, he needed to know if she was ok.

Never again is she fucking going under cover. He was sick to death of her so willing putting herself in harms way. He had been against the Sin op from the beginning but she didn't have an ounce of hesitation when Cragen asked her if she would do it. She never did.

He clasped his hands and rested them on his stomach. He could feel the bareness of his ring finger and he exhaled into the empty room. It had been 6 months since he moved out and had lost count of how many times that had made it. How many times he'd given up on his wife and his family because the job got the better of him.

This time more than any other it had felt more final. He hadn't seen Kathy or his kids in nearly 2 months and he hated the fact that tonight of all nights he selfishly wanted the comfort, distraction and sanity of his family.

**::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**

He must be asleep he decided because he heard Olivia's voice.

She was whispering something in his ear as she draped herself across his bare chest.

She was pushing her lips into the crux of his neck, hitting a sensitive spot, kissing him hard.

He reached out and grabbed her hip and realised she was only wearing panties.

His fingers traced the rim of the small piece of material and she moaned into his neck.

"Take them off," she whispered seductively.

He rolled her onto her back and his lips instinctively met with hers as he kissed her gently. His lips grazing hers before he opened her mouth, sliding his tongue into meet hers.

She kissed him back, pressing her hip against his hardness with urgency.

_Fuck me. _

He was already naked and she was trying to draw her underwear down but he wouldn't let her.

He ran a hand over her bear breast and flicked his thumb over her erect nipple. He felt her writhe against him in frustration.

"Fuck me El," she moaned against his lips that were still nipping at hers.

He let his hand trail lower down her rib cage, over her abdomen and hover at the top of her panties.

She tried to reach out and grasp his cock but he blocked her, instead running a hand over the smooth satin of her panties.

They both moaned in union as he felt how ready she was. He rubbed two fingers against her clit over the top of the material and she called out.

He then pushed at her entrance, and penetrated her slightly through her panties and she kicked him in the calf in frustration.

"Now Elliot," she wasn't kidding around anymore.

She spread her legs either side of him, and his cock rubbed against her, he exhaled into her neck and she urged him to penetrate.

She tried to pull her panties down again and his hand came down to help her with the task. He got them half way down her ass when he slipped his hand into her panties and pushed two fingers inside of her.

She called out in surprise but let him slide his fingers in and out in a rhythmic motion. He watched her eyes draw to a close and her breathing heighten.

She bit into her lip as she moved with his fingers, her hands grabbing at his bicep, her fingernails gently sinking into his muscle.

He quickened the pace and he saw the mounting pleasure etched in her features, she was dripping and was so tight around the thickness of his fingers. He wanted so badly to replace them with his cock but he wanted to watch her come. He didn't want any selfish distractions that would take away from this moment.

She pulled her lower lip into her mouth before releasing it with a moan. He retracted his fingers momentarily to rub over her clit before plunging her fingers back inside her.

"Fuck El," she let out and he felt her contract around his fingers.

She called out as she spiralled into orgasm, her fingernails now biting into his skin.

His lips brushed over her forehead and he felt the slight perspiration.

"Elliot," she whispered against his cheek as he sank down onto her body.

"Elliot!" Fin's voice echoed through the crib and his eyes snapped open, trying to get his bearings.

He was lying on his stomach with his face pushed into the pillow but Olivia wasn't beneath him. Jesus.

Thank God he was on his stomach right now or Fin would be able to see the extent of his arousal.

"Sorry Man, the results came in," Fin confirmed the reason for the interruption.

"You're going to want to see this."

**::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**

It had been another 4 hours.

Olivia had been to the restroom, she was even able to wash her face and brush her teeth with a disposable toothbrush and toothpaste that tasted like powered milk.

It was at least something.

When she returned to the interview room Silverman had a white paper bag waiting which contained a burger with the works, large fries and a coke. At first her stomach turned at the smell but once she watched Silverman dig into his own burger, her appetite started to return.

Suddenly she was starving.

She had pulled open the burger and devoured half of it in moments, she then had a handful of salty chips and drained half of the coke in one sip.

Suddenly she was insanely full.

She sucked in a breath finding it hard to breathe and pushed the half eaten contents to the side.

"When was the last time you ate something?"

"I don't remember," she said clutching at her stomach feeling the onset of indigestion.

Her stomach had shrunk dramatically and she shouldn't have done that. All the salt and sugar that her body wasn't used to in rapid succession. She had practically been living on bread, nuts, rice and water for 2 weeks. The food was so plain and sparse she learnt to do without most of the time.

"Two days ago maybe." She didn't even know what day it was let alone when she last ate.

"You must really love your job," he said softly.

She made eye contact with him before looking away. She wasn't sure how to answer that or if she even would.

She cleared her throat.

"About an hour before I was taken my partner had come to warn me that our captain was pulling the plug on the operation. The only way he could reach me was to go undercover as a client," she began.

Silverman stilled his burger in his hands.

"To be clear I was not there to participate. I was just there to take the bookings and flirt with the clients. My partner however needed to get me alone so we could warn me."

She looked away before continuing. "So he dropped ten grand for an hour of my time."

Silverman's eyebrows rose. He waited for her to continue.

"When management found out he was willing to pay that amount they wouldn't take no for an answer. There was a camera in the room and if we so much as looked suspect, we'd both be killed. I say that because about a week ago a client had come in and was asking all sorts of questions about the women, the club.." her words drifted off as she looked away.

"They suspected he was a cop and broke his neck."

Silverman exhaled.

"It turned out he wasn't a cop," she said softly.

She scratched her temple with her knuckle.

"My partners a good actor Agent Silverman but the risk was too severe."

Silverman opened his mouth to say something but she cut him off continuing.

"To make matters worse the 14 women who had died over the course of the past 8 months had either broken the rules, talked back to management or dissatisfied clients. If it looked like I wasn't satisfying my client, I'd be killed."

Silverman placed his burger down on the paper and reached for a napkin.

A few anxious beats passed until he asked her the question.

"Did you sleep with your partner?" Silverman asked quietly.

She watched as he wiped his hands with the napkin and felt responsible for his loss of appetite.

"No, I asked him to hit me so they'd kick him out. They had a strict no violence policy, they wanted to keep the women in top condition."

She shuddered at the reasoning that now made sense. They were going to be sold and no one is going to buy a bruised peach.

"But wouldn't that make him a dissatisfied client?" Silverman asked the lingering question.

She looked away.

"There's a good chance they would have killed you anyway," Silverman pressed.

She stared at the condensation that was dripping from the coke cup.

Maybe. She thought, but they would have kicked him out first.

When Silverman realised he had potentially hit a nerve he changed the subject.

"So did he hit you?" Silverman questioned.

Olivia shook her head.

"He got rough with me and after quite the ordeal it ended with him pretending to strangle me until I fell unconscious. It must have worked because that's when the men swarmed the room."

Silverman looked a little in shock. He shook his head trying to clear his thoughts.

"I don't think it had anything to do with your performance. I think it was just a coincidence that they swarmed your room when they did," Silverman said.

Olivia shifted in her seat confused.

"Why would you say that?"

She could sense the shift that came from Silverman as he realised he might have said too much. He reached over and took a sip of his coke, she could tell he didn't want to answer. He knew a hell of a lot more than she did about this whole ordeal and he needed answers from her, not visa versa.

She wanted answers too and wished that he could see her as a partner in this situation rather than just a witness.

"Please tell me what's going on," she said quietly. "Are you saying those men were coming to take me the whole time. Regardless of what I was doing in that room their intention was to traffic me internationally? What was in Philadelphia?"

Silverman looked away.

"Look we're getting off track, go back to when you were pretending to be unconscious. What happened then?"

Her demeanour sunk, she had just give him a shitload of information she would have rather not shared and she realised he wasn't going to give her anything.

"I have a right to know what's going on too, I'm giving you all the details you need, I'm not just a random witness in this case Silverman, I'm working it too, you have to give me something."

"Detective, finish your story and I'll fill in the blanks," he said getting frustrated.

"No, fill in the blanks and I'll finish my story," she pushed. It felt childish but she wasn't going to lay all of her cards on the table just to be kicked to the curb.

He stood up then, in one quick movement and for a moment she thought he was going to lose it and sweep the table or throw something. He watched her intently before digging into his pocket and pulling out his cell phone.

He placed it on the table in front of him and her eyes locked onto it.

"Finish your story, and I mean every single detail and if I'm satisfied I have everything I need from you, I'll call your superior and tell him of your whereabouts."

Her eyebrows came together in confusion.

"How long are you intending on keeping me here?" she sounded pissed. She figured once she told them everything she knew she could go.

"As long as it takes," he told her. "Now start talking."

The fury was starting to build in her and she felt her tolerance for Silverman diminishing by the second. She had given him the benefit of the doubt and now he was walking all over her.

"This is bullshit. I can't believe your superiors are letting you get away with this crap. With holding water, restroom privileges, my freedom, making ridiculous deals for basic human rights in order to get what you want. I'd be out of a job if I pulled half the crap you've pulled with me. Now I need to get back to the city and I need to get back now."

She launched up then and snatched the cell phone from the table. She was quick, flicking it open as Silverman sprung into action and rounded the table. She kicked the chair in front of him and frantically dialled Cragen's number, urging her fingers not to shake.

One ring, two rings. Come on.

She made it around the table but he was hot on her heals.

"Cragen."

She heard him pick up just as Silverman grasped the back of shirt and yank her towards him.

"It's Olivia-" she yelled and before she could continue Silverman's arm grabbed her around the neck in a chokehold. The phone slipped to the floor and Silverman's hand went over her mouth and muffled her impending words.

She screamed against his hand in anger. She would have told Cragen her location and to send someone immediately but her words were nothing but muffled screaming.

She tried biting his hand, elbowing him in the ribs but he'd thrown off her centre of gravity using the table as leverage as he had her kicking in the air.

She heard the door burst open then and relief flooded through her that Silverman was about to be called off by a superior. She then realised with shock that Agent Cornett had only come in to take the cell phone, close it and exit promptly.

As soon as the door shut Silverman released her from his hold and she fell immediately to the ground. Her wrist broke her fall as she fell on it awkwardly and she called out in pain.

"Just remember Detective, you did this to yourself."

With that Silverman walked out the door and slammed it shut.

She knew then that it would be hours, days possibly until Silverman would return.

**::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**

"What did you find?" Elliot asked clearing his throat.

He'd told Fin he'd be down in a minute and waited for his situation down south to pass.

He couldn't believe he had dreamt about Olivia like in that at a time like this.

Cragen shot into action with the spiel.

"The ethnicity ID showed Iranian to be the closest match, maybe Iraqi, but they were definitely of Middle Eastern decent. They were bearing SA80 assault rifles, a light-weight war weapon designed in the 70s and has been in service since the mid 80s. They were used in the Gulf, Bosnian, Kosovo and Civil Wars and more recently in the Afghanistan and Iraq war. Their rate of fire is approximately 700 rounds per minute making them extremely dangerous and illegal if possessed outside war grounds."

"So how does that help us find Liv?" Elliot asked in frustration wanting to cut to the chase.

"We've contacted the manufacturers BAE Systems and Heckler & Koch however with 350,000 currently in production we have little hope in tracking down the weapons specific origin. However coupled with the Middle Eastern ethnicity ID I'd say there is a good chance the gunmen are likely soldiers of the ongoing Middle Eastern war.

"So in another words, you've got nothing," Elliot said gruffly.

"We've got an idea of what we are up against here Elliot and as you can imagine it extends a lot further than a gentleman's club on the Upper East Side. I've been in contact with the government to see if they can shed any light on the matter and what resources they can provide and I'm waiting to hear back."

Elliot shook his head, he couldn't believe this.

"So like I said, you've got nothing," he said bitterly as he turned to leave Cragen's office.

"Wait Elliot, there's something else," Cragen said before he got too far.

Elliot picked up on the apprehension in Cragen's voice and it made Elliot's heart rate skyrocket.

This couldn't be good news.

"What is it?" Elliot tried to sound unaffected.

Cragen let a few beats pass as he summoned up the courage to tell him.

"What Captain?" Elliot pushed.

"Olivia called."

**::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**

Eleven hours.

Eleven fucking hours and she hadn't seen or heard from anyone.

If she hadn't had so much sleep earlier she would have tried to sleep just to pass time. That and the coke she drank had kept her wide-awake for every god damn second of it.

About 5 hours ago she had needed to pee again, but she held it and tried to block it out of her mind. A bit like hunger pain, given enough time it eventually passes. Lord knows she knew how to hold it and she wouldn't cause a scene until she was desperate.

To keep track of the passing time, each approximate hour that passed she'd line up another chip to her collection. She wondered if eventually she would run out of chips.

The food was starting to stink and at one point she thought she was going to be sick. She had bent down on the ground convinced she was going to throw up. She had even held out the lunch bag as an aid. Her stomach had been running in circles attempting to digest the junk food she'd consumed but somehow she had managed to keep it down.

Eleven hours left her a lot of time alone with her thoughts.

She thought about the case, about the gravity of the situation, about Elliot, about the phone call she'd made to Cragen and how she wasn't sure if no word from her would have been better than a scream for help.

She'd knew she had just made things worse. They probably assumed the worst, that she had called from some perverts basement screaming for freedom.

The guilt was intoxicating.

She thought about Porter and if Silverman had actually called him. She wondered what he would do had he known the situation she was in. If anything.

After their colourful history she knew she couldn't trust him but at that point Porter was the closest thing she had to her freedom right now.

She tried to devise a game plan for when Silverman eventually returned.

Threats didn't work, confidence didn't get her anywhere. The only thing left to do was succumb to Silverman's every need, do a complete 360 and give him all the information she could possibly recall. As much as it would kill her.

Effectively, she'd kiss his ass.

She didn't care at that point about the case, about the truth, about justice for the 2 weeks of hell she'd just endured.

All she wanted was her freedom and word that Elliot was ok.

She'd then get back to the precinct and they would continue with their own investigation.

She thought about all the perps she had interrogated in the past and how she'd treated them in a similar fashion to this. Never to this extent of course but she knew all the tricks in the book, the flickering light, the wobbly chair, the heat, the cold, the boredom.

It almost felt like this was karma catching up with her.

The only difference was, she wasn't a perp.

She was impressed with her stamina at this point. She could have caused a chaotic scene, thrown furniture, thrown the food at the two-way mirror. Thumped on the door incessantly until someone listened.

She knew Silverman was watching, or at least his men were and she would give them no satisfaction or indication that this was killing her.

She would continue to patiently await his return.

5 more chips later and Olivia stood up, walked over to the two-way mirror and said the words that sat sour on her tongue.

"I'm ready to talk now."

**TBC**


	3. Chapter 3

Your words are pretty effing cool - thanks guys. I don't own anyone.

**Chapter 3**

She was starring blankly at her reflection in the two-way mirror when the door to the interrogation room opened. Olivia saw out of her peripheral vision Silverman reappearing casually as if he had only been gone 16 minutes.

Not 16 hours.

She looked over at him with a defeated look in her eyes. He'd beaten it out of her with his silence and she was officially done. She noticed he was wearing a different suit jacket, shirt and tie and his hair looked like it had been washed. A part of her wanted to go ape shit and beat the crap out of him for leaving here in here for so long but she knew that would only buy her another day without her freedom.

He stood by the door without coming too far into the room and just starred at her. She noticed he hadn't shut the door yet, just held the frame casually as if he were only popping in to check on her. She raised her eyebrows in question. He cleared his throat.

"You're free to go."

**::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**

"Olivia called you?" Elliot pressed in ager. "Why didn't you tell me?" He was fuming.

"I am telling you now," Cragen matched his heatedness, unimpressed with Elliot's attitude.

"When did she call? What did she say?" Elliot stepped further into the office.

"About an hour ago," Cragen said squeezing the bridge of his nose with his fingers.

"And?" Elliot pushed.

"All I heard was her tell me it was her," he informed him before dropping the bombshell. "Then the line went dead." Cragen was too tired to sugar coat the situation. He was just as worried about Olivia as Elliot was.

"What?" Elliot yelled. "Did she sound panicked? Was there background noise? Caller ID? Did you trace the call?" Elliot desperately shot out the questions.

"She sounded rushed, like she knew she didn't have much time. I heard someone try and stop her, I think the phone dropped on the ground and then I heard," Cragen paused unsure if he should continue.

Elliot urged him with a look.

"I heard what I think was muffled screaming," Cragen said quietly.

Elliot pulled out the chair opposite Cragen's desk and fell into it, his face resting in his hands as he tried to block out all the horrific images that were flooding his brain. "I assume she wasn't on the line long enough for a trace," he mumbled into his hands.

"The call lasted for approximately 15 seconds so no trace was possible. The number came up as private but we were able to confirm it was a government owned cell phone. That doesn't really narrow down our search considerably but it's promising that she hasn't left the country."

"Do you think there is a chance there is a connection between the government call and the Middle East?"

Cragen looked past Elliot to where Munch appeared at the door. Munch stuck his head into Cragen's office.

"Cap I got something."

**::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**

"Did you hear me? You're free to go," Silverman repeated motioning to the door he held open for her.

Her eyebrows came together and she folded her arms in front of her. "You leave me in here for 16 hours just to tell me I'm free to go," she said through gritted teeth. She was ready to slug the son of a bitch. He had nothing to say to her, he just stood there and stared at her pathway to freedom. "We're not done yet," she said angrily. "You still need my answers and I need yours."

He was looking at her as if she were insane. "You've been held here against your will for close to 50 hours and _you're_ not done?"

She stormed up to him, grasped the doorframe and slammed it shut. "No I'm not," she said. "I _need_ to know what's going on."

He was watching her intently. She could see he was working to hide the small amount of empathy he had for her but knew at the end of the day it was his job to hide the facts. Silverman moved forward and opened the door once more.

"Thank you for your time Detective Benson."

**::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**

Olivia pushed open the doors to the federal building expecting to be hit with daylight. It was dark out. Pitch black and the cold air hit her like a brick wall. There were a few cars on the road and a couple of cabs with their lights on but she had no money, no phone and no idea what she was going to do.

She was screwed. She knew her credit card details off by heart but she couldn't board a plane, hire a car or even a hotel room without ID. She didn't even have a quarter for the pay phone nor could she see one close by.

A man in a suit came out soon after her and she turned around with relief.

"Excuse me sir, can I please use your phone?" Olivia asked in a rush.

He took one look at her clothing shook his head and kept walking.

She rubbed her face and tried to think of her options. If she found a pay phone she could reverse the charge to the precinct but she needed instant help, local help. As much as she didn't want to use it, she needed her wild card. She walked back into the federal building and headed towards the guard at the front desk. He had been no help to her earlier but she was going to try again.

"I know, I know," she said before he had a chance to refuse her again. "I understand your phone isn't available to the general public, but can you please just contact Agent Porter for me." Desperation lined her face.

The guard blinked a couple of times, considering her request.

"Please just tell him it's Olivia Benson."

"Olivia?" A voice from behind her caused her to jump. She turned around to see Porter standing there looking caught off guard by her presence and her attire. Her breath caught and the relief flooded through her.

"Thank God," she said quietly and stepped towards him. "I need your help."

**::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**

Porter led her away from the guard and over to the lobby couches for some privacy. "Are you ok? You look like hell." Porter had noticed.

"I need your phone," she said, cutting to the chase.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"Please can I just use your phone," she pushed.

He just stared at her still in shock. She didn't have time for this, she moved forward and dug her hand into his pants pocket, pulling out his cell phone. He just watched her as she quickly dialed Cragen's number. She met his questioning eyes only briefly before turning around and walking out of hearing distance.

"Cragen."

"It's me," she said quickly.

"Jesus, Olivia. Are you ok? Where are you?" She could hear the panic in his voice. They had been worried. She bit into her lip, she didn't want to ask it but she had to know.

"Tell me Elliot's ok." She squeezed her eyes shut. A wave of silence passed over and she was desperately holding back the onset of tears.

"He's fine, he's right here," Cragen said quietly.

The relief flooded through her and she wobbled a little on her feet, feeling as if she were about to loose her balance. He was right there. Thank God.

"Where are you? What happened?" Cragen continued.

"D.C.," she told him quietly and she could sense the surprise on the other line. "Look it's a long story but I'm going to try and get back to the city tonight. It's just proving a little difficult with no money or credentials."

"Stay there, I'm sending a car, it will be with you as soon as possible, 7-8 hours tops."

She looked over at Porter who was still watching her intently. Another 8 hours. "What time is it?" She didn't even know.

"11:30pm."

She let out a sigh. She had waited 50 hours, what's another 8. "Thanks. I'll be in touch with the address." Maybe she could find a cheap motel that would accept her credit card number without ID.

"Wait, Liv if we need to contact you-"

She clicked the phone off. She didn't have a contact number, she didn't have a plan, she had nothing. She headed back to Porter and held out his phone not wanting to waste any more of his time.

"Thanks," she said.

He took it from her and she started to walk away, heading towards the exit of the building. She could hear his footsteps behind her.

"Wait, where are you going?" he called out.

"I don't know," she spoke over her shoulder.

She pushed open the doors to the building forgetting just how cold it was outside. She could hear him coming after her and when he caught up he grasped her elbow softly, turning her around.

"It's freezing, do you need a ride somewhere?" he asked with concern.

"Yeah, to the city," she said with sarcasm.

"New York?" he asked in shock.

She let out a half laugh. "Didn't think so," she turned back around. "Thanks for the call."

"Where are you going to go with no money and no ID?" he called out.

She turned around and took the few steps back to him. "How did you-"

"I heard you on the phone," he confessed.

She shivered a little against the cold, suddenly the interrogation room wasn't looking so bad. She watched him shake his jacket off and handed it to her. She brushed it off.

"I'm fine," she lied.

He considered her for a quick moment before he spoke. "Look my place is 15 minutes away, do you need a place to stay tonight?" he asked her.

She laughed, shaking her head. "I don't need anything from you."

He grabbed her elbow again before she could get far. "Look, Olivia, I owe you. You can shower, sleep and I'll drive you to New York in the morning."

Her eyebrows rose at the absurdity. "New York is a 9 hour round trip Porter, 12 in peak hour," she said it like he was insane for suggesting it. "Besides I already have a ride," she told him pulling her arm out of his hold.

"When?" he asked.

She sighed and quickly did the math in her head. "About 7am," she said quietly.

"And until then?" he said with concern.

She wasn't going home with him.

"I'll figure it out."

**::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**

"I told you I'm not hungry," she said as Porter slid the piping hot bowl of pasta in front of her. Her hair was dripping wet from the shower and she was sporting a pair of his sweatpants and a college t-shirt that hung off her.

"You look like you haven't eaten in months," he told her with concern.

A small part of her felt like a copout because she had submitted once again. First to Silverman and now to Porter but just because she was in his house, using his shower, wearing his clothes and eating is food didn't mean she trusted him. She was simply choosing the lesser of two evils. Porter vs the street.

She had called Cragen again, given him Porter's address and Cragen told her a car would pick her up at approximately 7am the next morning.

She hadn't called Elliot.

She picked up the fork and spiraled it in circles until it built up enough pasta, she then took the bite. It was mind blowing. She remembered Porter boasting that he was a great cook and in all fairness his fettuccine was delicious. She was careful to take it slow so she didn't make the same mistake she had earlier with the burger. He watched her take the second bite and swipe the alfredo sauce from the corner of her mouth.

"Good?" he asked.

She nodded. It was on par with the shower she'd just had. She was so happy to finally wash away 50 hours of grime, dirt and BO. He'd even given her a fresh toothbrush with normal toothpaste and she had sprayed herself with his deodorant. She felt human again.

"So can I ask you what you were doing in my building at that hour dressed like a homeless woman?" he asked with a small smile.

She didn't see the humor. The last thing she felt like doing was talking about the ordeal but she was curious as to how much Porter knew.

"Did Silverman talk to you?" she said casually. She twisted the fork collecting more pasta and watched as Porter's confusion became evident.

"Silverman?" he questioned.

It appeared as if Porter was oblivious but he had a knack for swimming in BS so she decided to leave it at that. She wasn't going to offer up any details on the matter and slandering Silverman and the very organization that Porter worked for would get her nowhere. She finished another mouthful before she put her fork down.

"I'm really tired Porter, thanks for the pasta but I'm going to get some sleep."

**::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**

"Liv," she heard his voice and felt a hand on her upper arm attempting to pull her from her slumber. Where was she? Was she in the crib? Was that Elliot?

"Liv," he tried again.

"El?" she said sleepily and rolled over. Porter was standing next to the bed and she pulled herself back into consciousness.

"Oh, hey," she said groggily sitting up on her elbows. She felt like she'd been drugged she was so out of it. "What time is it?" It was all coming back to her now, Porter had let her sleep in his bed. She'd been adamant about taking the couch but he insisted otherwise and she was too exhausted to push it.

"It's just after 7, your ride is downstairs," he told her and she sprung into action.

She looked around as if to collect her stuff and realized she didn't have anything with her. She looked down at the clothes she was still wearing.

"Keep them, you're fine," he told her.

"Thanks Porter, I'll see you," she told him and with that she walked out of his bedroom and back to reality.

**::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**

An officer had picked her up and they were in the city by midday.

She had the option to go home first but she elected to go straight to the precinct. She headed straight to the locker room and grabbed the spare change of clothes she always kept handy. She threw on a pair of jeans, a sweater and shoes and headed out to the bullpen.

She saw Munch at his desk and Cragen in his office but she realized with disappointment that Elliot was nowhere to be seen.

"Liv." Munch rose from his desk when he saw her enter.

"You ok?" he asked with concern.

"I'm fine John," she gave him a weak smile before opening the door to Cragen's office. When Cragen saw her he hung up the phone call he was on and stood up.

She wanted to ask about Elliot, she needed proof that he was ok. Maybe it was all just a dream that he was ok, maybe Cragen had lied to her. Where was he?

"Thank god," he said with a sigh of relief. "You ok?"

"I'm fine," she repeated. _I'm fine_ might as well be her voicemail message. She glanced over her shoulder in the direction of Elliot's desk in the vague hope that he'd suddenly appeared. She turned back to Cragen and opened her mouth to ask before closing it again.

"He's out on a case with Fin," Cragen answered the looming question.

She nodded, a little confused.

"Our case?" she said referring to Sin. She was determined to sink her teeth back into it now that she knew the potential gravity and she wanted answers.

"A child abduction case, it came in last night," Cragen confirmed.

She scratched her temple with her knuckle. She was confused as to why Cragen would pull Elliot and Fin off such a high profile case.

"Well I've got a lot of light to shed on this shit storm and I need your help. Special Agent Lucas Silverman is responsible for my prolonged absence. You won't believe the hell he put me through. This extends a lot further than we thought, the deaths at Sin were just the tip of the iceberg, it's global, it appears that Sin is a trafficking portal for overseas sex workers-"

"Olivia," Cragen cut her off. "We're off the case."

Her eyebrows rose. "I'm sorry?"

"I got the call last night. It's federal, it's out of our hands."

"No," she said shaking her head, refusing to believe it.

"Olivia you know the drill, there is nothing we can do, end of story," he pushed.

She was fuming. "I've put my life on the line weeks and you're telling me that's it," she exclaimed. When Cragen didn't continue, she did. "Silverman is running a corrupt horse and pony show, it's BS. I was on the inside, you have no idea what I've been through and what I've seen, I have so much to offer-"

"Olivia," Cragen cut her off again. "I'm not fighting you on this. We are _all_ officially off the case, I don't want to hear another word about it. What's more I think this is an opportune time for you to take some much needed vacation time-"

"Don't," she cut him off.

"Two weeks mandatory leave, no discussion," he pressed. "You said it yourself, you've been through hell. Maybe you should consider getting out of the city for a while."

She lent forward in her chair clasping her hands together. "Please don't do this." She was begging him now.

"It's done Olivia," he told her. "You've got a debriefing with Haung at 2:30 and then I want you out of here."

Jesus this was getting worse by the minute. There was no way she was seeing Haung nor would she drop the case. She had come too far. She knew she was getting nowhere with this conversation so she stood up and headed to the door.

"Oh I am partnering Elliot and Fin together," Cragen stopped her with his words.

Her hand stilled on the door handle and she spoke into the door. "Temporarily," she confirmed. A moment of silence passed and Olivia finally turned around. She caught Cragen's eyes and just knew. "You're kidding me," she whispered.

She felt it then the walls of her world crumbling. It was official this case had officially ripped her into shreds.

"It's a restructure. As you know Munch is retiring at the end of the month and Detective Bennett is transferring in a couple of weeks from Brooklyn, I think you two will work well together."

"I already work well with my own partner," she defended.

"It's not negotiable Olivia," he dismissed her.

This had to be about Sin. He wondered how much Cragen knew. How much had Elliot told him?

_Restructure my ass._

"What are you doing to me?" she whispered. Was this some test to see how much she could take before she broke?

Cragen opened his mouth to say something but seemed as if he'd thought better of it. She slunk back against the door, her expression completely deflated.

"Look Olivia, you've been through the ringer, I'm not doing this to piss you off, I'm doing it because I worry about you. I suggest you take this time to get some stability and sanity in your life."

She heard his words but hadn't registered them. Her mind was a blur. She caught movement outside Cragen's office and she was done listening to Cragen's excuses. She opened the door and left before Cragen could say another word. She saw Fin, heading towards his desk dropping his coat.

Fin caught her eye and did a double take. "Liv," he stalked over to her and pulled her into an unexpected side hug, she let him hold for a few moments before he pulled back after a few pats on the back. She was pleasantly surprised at the physical compassion.

"Hey," she began, looking around expecting Elliot to be close behind.

"He's still out," Fin informed her. "Canvassing."

She nodded. She hadn't called him last night when she had access to a phone and he wasn't present for her return. Suddenly she felt stupid for worrying about him when it appeared it hadn't been reciprocated.

"Do you want me to-"

"No thanks, I'm going to head off," Olivia cut him off. She wasn't sure what Fin was going to suggest but it hit her suddenly that the precinct was the last place she wanted to be.

**::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**

He stood outside her apartment door.

He had been sitting in his car for 20 minutes before he worked up the nerve to knock on her door. He still couldn't do it. His heart was thumping a mile and he felt ridiculously childish. It was still Olivia, the same woman he'd worked along side for more than a decade. Only it was different now.

He'd touched her, kissed her, felt her body responding to his and there was no going back.

He was there to see if she was ok, he had heard she'd been back to the precinct that morning but they hadn't crossed paths. It was either check in on her now, or wait the two weeks until she returned. He couldn't wait two weeks. The two days she was missing was long enough.

Had he had just run into her at the precinct, it would have been a lot easier. There was something about coming to her house after hours that made him feel as if he were crossing a line. They'd already crossed several but if the intension was to inject some normalcy back into their relationship this was not the way to do it.

It was too late. He had to see if she were ok especially given the outcome that she was faced with today. She lost her case, her partner and temporarily her job, all in one swoop. He had absolutely no idea what reception he would receive from her. He held his breath and knocked on the door. Three solid knocks. A few beats passed and he felt nauseous.

He heard the small footsteps, a slight pause as he assumed she must be looking through the peephole and then after a few moments of hesitation the door opened. She was standing there dressed in jeans and a white cotton v-neck t-shirt. Her hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail and her cheeks were slightly flushed.

She looked beautiful. He wondered if he'd ever be able to look at her as just his partner again. Or if he ever had.

He'd hugged her when she'd saved his wife and child's life, he hugged her after Sonya's death and god knows he wanted to hug her now. In the days that she was missing, he told himself that once she returned he would pull her into an embrace and tell her all the things he never could. Only now that he was faced with the situation it was different, it was reality and he just couldn't.

"Hey," he said softly.

She looked a little taken aback, as if he had caught her in the middle of something. She looked behind her and then back to him, perhaps assessing the mess he wondered. She didn't respond in words she simply opened the door a little wider and stood to the side motioning for him to come in.

He hesitated only briefly before he walked through the threshold. He saw her laptop set up on the coffee table and papers and books scattered around the screen. He saw the wine glass that housed a small amount of red and he attributed that to the flush in her cheeks. His eyes wandered back to hers and she was watching him with a strange look he couldn't place.

"Any breaks in the abduction case?" she asked.

He bit into his lip. He didn't want to talk about his case, he wasn't there to talk about work. He shook his head in response.

"What's the background, maybe I can help," she started.

He knew the two weeks would be killing her already and that she was only asking for details so she could distract herself with what she knew best.

"Liv," he began and his tone must have sounded like a warning because he registered the shift in her demeanor.

_Strike one._

He wanted to tell her that he wasn't here to talk about his case and he didn't want her thinking about it. He wanted to ask her if she was ok. He wanted to ask her if they had hurt her. He wanted to know the details as to what she had been through and the toll it had taken on her. He wanted to apologize for how far he let things get and for hurting her when they were undercover.

He wanted to ask her if she had dinner and when the last time she had eaten was because he could see she'd lost weight. He wanted to tell her that she should use these two weeks to rest and recuperate and reassess her life decisions and the danger she seems intent on putting herself in. He wanted to tell her that he hadn't stopped thinking about her since and it was taking all the restraint in the world not to grab her right now and pull her into an unforgiving embrace. He wanted to say all of these things but instead he continued to stare blankly.

She broke the silence.

"What did you tell Cragen?" she asked him and the accusation sat heavy in her words. She was referring to the fact that they were no longer partners and he was in the firing line of blame. He could feel his defenses starting to flare.

"Nothing."

She looked him dead in the eyes and he wondered how she could do that with such ease when he had trouble maintaining eye contact the moment he'd entered her apartment.

"You must have said something," she pushed not buying it.

He was trying desperately not to screw this up. He didn't want to fight with her so he needed to choose his words carefully. But she needed to know.

"He saw the footage," he told her quietly.

Her eyes widened and a few beats passed before she broke the eye contact and rubbed a hand over her face.

"Oh my god," her words were muffled by her hand, she look mortified. He watched as she wrestled with the humiliation and the reasoning that had registered. "And you let him?" she said stunned.

_Like he had a choice._

He felt the anger start to pulsate through his body at the blame she was insistent on throwing his way. He tried to will the heat back down.

"I had no choice, you were missing. It was the only lead we had," Elliot explained.

It took her a few moments to pull herself together. "So what did you find?"

This would fall under the category of discussing a case that Cragen deemed officially off limits.

"Liv," he began again, the same warning as before and he could see he was losing her by the second but this had to be said. "We're off the case," he reminded her.

_Strike two._

Her eyes narrowed in annoyance. "Then what does it matter, just tell me what you found." He picked up on the desperation in her voice and as his eyes travelled over to the laptop it all fell into place. _She_ wasn't off the case.

"Is that your idea of rest and recuperation?" he said with disapproval.

She was starting to get agitated and he knew if he pushed her too far she'd kick him out and he wasn't ready to leave. He was about to soften the situation when she surprized him by dropping the hostility.

"Please Elliot, just tell me what you know," she spoke softly and her eyes were searching his for any hope that he'd comply.

He sighed, looking away, knowing he would have to give her something. Figuring the information he was about to provide could be accessed in their closed case file he began. "The men who swarmed the room were of Middle Eastern descent, Iranian was the closest match," he said quietly.

She started blankly at him as if she expected him to continue. He was hoping that would have been enough to tide her over but he should have known better.

"Liv-" he began again and she took a step forward cutting him off.

"And?"

He had her undivided attention and he could tell she needed to hear more. He looked over at the paperwork on her coffee table and wondered what she intended to do with the information he was providing her.

"There is nothing you can do," he told her definitively. "It's out of our hands."

"I know," she agreed. Her voice was soft and had a weakness about it that he rarely saw.

"I just need to know," she confirmed. He was searching her eyes trying to determine whether she was playing him or if she really just wanted peace out of this. He weakened under her gaze and their new closer proximity.

"The SA80 assault rifles they were carrying led us to believe the gunmen could be soldiers of the war in Iraq."

He watched her take in the information he had given her and could see her calculating it. Repeating it in her mind because launching for a note pad at this point would be too obvious. He couldn't be angry at himself for giving in to her because the truth was he already knew.

"Promise me you're going to…" his words faded into nothing as he realized it was pointless even asking her.

"What else El?" she whispered and her voice was unbearably breathy.

_Fuck me. _

He turned away from her then, trying desperately to get his mind out of the gutter. He could stop her right there and tell her that was everything they knew but she could read him like a book and would know he was holding out on her.

"Munch reviewed the footage from the other 39 rooms at the approximate time you were taken," he told her. He was treading in dangerous waters here. Not only were they discussing details of a confidential federal case but Cragen had given him strict instructions not to discuss work with Olivia.

"And?" she whispered in anticipation.

"The other women at Sin weren't taken by the gunmen who took you, they were cleared out by the FBI, we assumed to be interviewed as witnesses."

Olivia nodded as if things were now falling into place and correlated with her experience.

"Except for another woman in room 23, she was swarmed by the same 4 middle eastern gunmen that took you, just 10 minutes prior."

Her eyebrows rose and she let out the breath she was holding. She looked confused and upset. "What does that mean?" she asked quietly as if she expected him to know the answer.

"It doesn't matter, there is nothing you can do," he reminded her.

"Why us?" she pushed.

He was losing her and he needed a focus, a distraction, something to change the course of their conversation because he needed her to drop this. He could handle a pissed off Olivia so he needed to get personal.

"When was the last time you ate something?" he asked point blank.

She furrowed her eyebrows as if she was confused by the question.

"Have you had dinner?" he asked.

"I'm not hungry," she answered defensively.

He shook his head and reached for the phone that was sitting on her bench. "I'll order Chinese," he told her decisively.

She moved then, her hand grasping the phone covering his. He pulled it from her hold and held it away from her, behind his back.

Without an ounce of hesitation she closed the distance between them and reached for it. Suddenly he could smell her shampoo and feel the heat from her body as she got so close in an attempt to seize the phone. He felt her breasts push up against his chest as she reached around his back to grasp the phone. He felt lightheaded and let her slip it out of his hold just so he could breathe again. She recreated the distance she had taken and tossed the phone on the bench.

"I told you I'm not hungry," she said in annoyance. "So if you're done prying Elliot, you can go."

_Strike 3._ He wasn't done.

Her lower back was propped up against the kitchen counter and he took the two steps forward that closed the distance between them. He felt her breath quicken at his sudden presence. His eyes searched hers as he debated his choice of words.

In the past couple of years she had become more and more self destructive, putting her job, the victims, the cases and his life all before her needs damning the consequences.

The risk she put herself in had amplified severely. Sealview, Gillette, Rojas, Brady Harrison. The boundaries she crossed only heightened, she had gone from kissing Dale Stuckey to parading around half naked in front of Bushido and now Sin. She used her body as a weapon, she was limitless and it was only escalating.

_Fuck me._

She wasn't invincible and there was only so far she could push it until her number came up. Now he was shit scared she was going to do something with this new information he'd provided her.

Olivia broke the eye contact, her eye line dropping to the kitchen tiles and that somehow made it easier.

"When will it be enough?" he whispered to the side of her face. How many more cases would she put herself on the line for until she realizes there is more to life?

Her eyes registered his comment but she didn't react. A few beats passed between them as he debated whether or not to push it. He heard the vibration of her phone from the coffee table and it pulled her out of her daze. She looked over at her phone as if she knew who it was but didn't want to make it obvious.

"I should get that," she told him pushing herself off the bench and heading towards the coffee table. "I'll see you in a couple of weeks ok," she told him as she picked up the phone. He didn't make any movements to leave.

"Benson." Her eyes darted to his briefly before she made her way to her bedroom for privacy.

He didn't want to leave, he hadn't said half the things he had come to say to her but in all honestly didn't think he would have the guts too even if she gave him the time of day. He waited a few moments, he could hear the muffled conversation from her bedroom. His eyes wandered back to the computer and curiosity got the better of him.

He sat down on the couch took in the contents. Scattered paper with notes jotted down, two books titled _Modern Slavery_ and _Human Trafficking_. He tapped the mouse pad and the screensaver disappeared revealing the flight itinerary. He scrolled down the page and read the details.

_American Airlines - Flight 4416 - New York to Washington D.C. - 06:30am_

She was flying to D.C. tomorrow morning.

He looked over his shoulder to check she wasn't wrapping up her phone call and when the coast seemed to be clear he clicked on the other open pages on her browser. The first was an online biography of an FBI Agent named Lucas Silverman, another was a hotel confirmation for The Best Western Georgetown Hotel & Suites_. _It was for 3 nights.

The last page was her personal email account. He saw the most recent email was from Dean Porter. His jaw clicked and a few beats passed as he debated whether or not he was going to click on it. The subject title told him nothing.

_Fw: Hi_

He would have to click on it if he wanted details. He knew it was wrong but he had gone this far, what was another breech of privacy at this point.

_Olivia, it was great seeing you despite the circumstances. If you need a lift from the airport let me know and the offer to stay at mine again is there. Dean._

He felt the anger pulsating through his body. The email had been a response to hers so he scrolled down to quickly see what she had wrote to him.

_Dean, thanks again. I am flying back to D.C. tomorrow for work. If you have some time to spare I could really use your help on a case. Let me know, Olivia._

He clicked it back to the flight itinerary and stood up. He was livid. She had slept at Porter's last night and now she was flying back there for round two. After everything that prick had done to them he couldn't believe she was still seeing him after all the lies and betrayal. The man used bureaucratic BS to get away with bugging their phones, covering up a murder, and taking a shot that could have taken Olivia's life. And now suddenly all was forgiven?

He had three options. One, he could call her on it, confront her and tell her he'd be speaking to Cragen. Two, he could leave without a word and let her live her own life and make her own mistakes. Or three, he could follow her to D.C.

His thoughts lingered on the options and as he heard her wrapping up the phone call his decision was made. He moved towards the door and quietly made his exit, clicking the door shut behind him he left her in peace.

**::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**

She had arranged to meet Porter for coffee at a cafe in between her hotel and his building. As they sipped on their takeaway cups she got a sense of déjà vu from her undercover days when he was her case agent and they met to exchange information. That felt like a lifetime ago.

She had struggled over how she was going to play this and just what she needed to say and do to get information from Porter without him suspecting she was out of her jurisdiction. After a minimal amount of small talk she cut to the chase.

"What do you know about Agent Silverman?" Olivia questioned.

She saw Porter registering her question and a smile tugged at his lips. "Why, you looking to be set up?" he joked.

She returned the smile. "I'm working a case I could really use his expertise on, I know he's dabbled in sex crimes and he could really shed some light," she fed him the line of BS. She watched as he considered her, his eyes searching her face for what she assumed was legitimacy.

"What's the case?" Porter questioned, she sensed his skepticism.

"It's sensitive," Olivia confirmed.

Porter furrowed his brow at the roadblock she had given him and she changed courses.

"Are you acquaintances? Friends?" she pushed.

"We rarely cross paths," Porter confirmed, a hint for her to drop it but she wasn't going to give up that easy.

"I don't want to bother him at work and thought you might-"

"Does Cragen know you're here?" Porter put on the breaks.

Her eyebrows rose and she expelled the breath she was holding. "Yes," she said defensively. "Look, the leads are dry and Silverman is our only shot."

"Why not have Cragen contact the FBI powers that be," Porter questioned.

She was quick to act. "We don't have time to climb the chain of command," she said getting impatient. "Please Porter, I wouldn't ask if-"

"The Old Dominion Brewhouse," he cut her off and Olivia waited for an explanation.

"It's a pub he frequents most nights after work," he confirmed. "Just head up 9th street it's about 8 blocks from J Edger," he told her quietly.

"Thank you," she said with a small smile, trying to hide the satisfaction. "I owe you one," she said as she got up and slipped her coat on.

"I know you do," Porter said with an overconfident smile. "Dinner tomorrow, you're buying."

As she straightened up her coat she raised her eyebrows at his boldness. "I don't think so," she said with a half laugh, picking up her empty coffee cup.

"Seriously?" he looked shocked.

The guy had been a prick to her in the past and she didn't trust him however she didn't want to rock the boat.

"We'll see," she said with a small smile.

He then watched as she tossed her cup into the trash and made her way out of the café.

**::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**

She got a cab from her hotel room to The Old Dominion Brewhouse on 9th street. The bar was nothing special. She was sure the streets around his building were peppered with places like this but perhaps that was part of the charm, that it was his regular because it was away from his work.

She spotted Silverman immediately, he was perched on a bar stool with a beer in one hand and a side of deep fried onion rings that he'd barely touched to his left. His attention was drawn to the TV screen that was blinking images of a basketball game.

She continued further down the bar and stood next to a group of patrons so they'd block her from Silverman's view and she quietly ordered a beer.

The bar tenders eyes dipped to her cleavage. She had wrestled over her choice of attire. Silverman had struck her as a chauvinistic pig in the interrogation room but she had seen glimpses of a softer side. A dress would have been too obvious, he was a smart guy and he'd most likely see through her intensions so she went for jeans, a token leather jacket and as a subtle teaser, a low cut top. It had worked on the bar tender.

She paid for the beer and took it over to a booth that was partially hidden in the corner of the room. That way she figured she could observe him for a short while until she decided it was time to approach. She didn't want him sober, but she didn't want him drunk so she was going to wait for that happy medium.

In the hour that had passed he'd gone to the bathroom, ordered a second side of deep friend onion rings and was half way through his third beer since she arrived. It was time. She stood up and made her way over to the bar and a few stools away from him.

"Can I get another Budweiser please?" she said to the bar tender.

She felt Silverman's eyes on her immediately and she pretended not to notice. The bar tender slid the fresh bottle of beer in front of her and gave her the change from her ten. She took a seat on the stool and took a sip. She looked up at the TV screen and pretended to be interested in the game.

"Number 39." Silverman's voice caused her to register and she turned to make eye contact with him. She gave him a look of surprise as if she were caught off guard by his presence.

"Agent Silverman," she responded with in a less than pleased tone and shook her head, making it clear she was pissed off at the encounter and that he was the last person she wanted to see.

She got up then and walked away, taking her beer a booth that purposely remained in his eye line. She perched herself there, and waited. It was a risk, a long shot that he would even give two shits over their brief encounter but she had to be subtle about this or he'd see right through her.

She saw out of her peripheral version that he had drained the third beer and had ordered another. Once the bar tender slid the bottle in front of him he picked it up and made his way over to her. She looked up at him and rolled her eyes in disapproval. He didn't ask for the invitation he just took it, taking the seat across the booth from her. He took a large sip from his beer before he spoke.

"What are you doing here?" he asked her with a hint of suspicion and intrigue.

"Enjoying a quiet beer by myself," she said with sarcasm.

He scoffed but didn't take the hint. "Why aren't you back in the city detective?" he queried. She heard the subtle slur in his voice, proud that she had hit the nail on the head.

"Listen, I didn't ask for company-" she spoke, pretending to be annoyed.

"Do you realize how lucky you are?" he cut her off. It hadn't taken long for him to bring it up and she was shocked. She paused and waited for him to continue, she didn't want to mess this up.

"You have no idea…" his words trailed off as did his eye contact and she watched as he looked strangely sad. When he didn't continue she spoke.

"Tell me," she said quietly.

His eyes flicked back to hers and he could sense he was starting to twig already. Son of a bitch she had acted too keen, she should have just let him talk in his own time.

He just shook his head and went back to his beer. "Forget it," Silverman mumbled.

She needed to change the subject and now. "How were the onion rings?" she asked him casually.

He looked caught off guard by the question but then answered her. "Dry," he confirmed.

She nodded with a small smile. He was giving her a strange look, like he wasn't sure how to take her shift in conversation.

"I'm not a bad guy you know," he said suddenly.

Her eyebrows rose. A statement she wasn't prepared for and wasn't sure how to respond to. "Ok," she said.

"It's the job, you know that right," he asked her as if he needed reiteration. "Coming onto you, it was a tactic-"

"You don't need to explain yourself to me," she spoke, shrugging him off.

"I have a daughter detective," he said with a sense of pride. "I would never..." his words trailed off.

Her eyes wondered to his bare ring finger and wondered how the mother of his daughter fit into the picture. He caught her looking at his hand.

"Divorced. She lives with her mother," he answered the question she didn't ask.

Olivia nodded.

"Do you have children Detective Benson?" he asked and she was impressed he had remembered her name.

She shook her head. "No, no I don't," she tried to sound nonchalant but failed.

After a few moments of silence he spoke. "That's probably for the best," he concluded taking another large sip from his beer and she tried not to take it personally. "Putting yourself at such risk and all," he cleared up. She didn't say anything, it was a touchy subject.

"Anyway," he seemed to pull himself together. "I'm sorry for giving you a hard time."

She watched him carefully. "Did you find what you were looking for?" She had said it as casually as she could and hoped he wouldn't read into the question.

He shook his head and looked away. She could see it then, the emotion that he was so desperately trying to conceal. All of a sudden he looked like he was in pure anguish. He rubbed his face and rested his head in his hands and looked as if he were about to cry. She wondered if she had miscalculated the amount of beers he had consumed prior to her arrival.

A few moments passed. "You ok?" she was concerned.

He was taking this personally. Too personally. She thought of the woman, the woman in room 23 and suddenly it dawned on her and everything fell into place. All the resources the FBI were pulling, all the manpower leading up to that day, the sheer gravity of the situation, the hell they put her through. It wasn't to save a group of prostitutes.

The woman in room 23 was an undercover agent.

It was a hunch, a big one, but she was taking it. She reached across the bench and placed a hand over his forearm. "She's your partner isn't she," she said it without another thought.

He dropped his hands slowly and she let her hand continue to rest on top of his.

"What are you.. who?" he spoke, looking at her dumbfounded. For a moment she thought she may have it wrong but pushed on with her theory.

"Two men took me in the wagon, but you said there were four men in total. The other two took your partner…"

"Where are you getting this?" he voice rose in volume and he moved his hands abruptly out from underneath hers.

_Time to back track._

"I'm sorry," she recoiled. "It was just a hunch, I'm apologize if I'm off track." She picked up the beer in front of her and took a sip. She watched as he attempted to calm himself down, his face was slightly flushed and he was chewing on his bottom lip. She was trying to brainstorm some more small talk to take his mind off the matter when all of a sudden he started talking.

"They had split you into two wagons, we were tracking you both but we lost the second somewhere around Delran, New Jersey. They must have been onto us and diverted their route. Yours continued on track to Philadelphia airport," his spoke quietly.

He hadn't looked at her once. Her mind ticked over and she remained quiet, hoping that if she didn't say anything he would continue without her having to press the matter. She watched as he took another draw of his beer and sat back in his seat. He finally made eye contact with her again.

She wanted to ask him, why her. Why his partner. She wanted to ask him where they were going from Philadelphia. She wanted to ask if he had any leads. She wanted to ask what Sin's involvement was. She wanted to ask a billion and one questions but she couldn't rock the boat. Yet. She tried for a different approach.

"Are you are your partner close?" she questioned, being sure you to use present tense.

He broke eye contact with her then and she knew. She knew that look and didn't need him to answer. "12 years Detective Benson," he started. "What do you think?"

12 years. A familiar pang hit her in the gut.

"I managed to keep my hands off her for eight," he recalled with a small smile.

_She fled to Oregon after eight._

"I don't know how I did that," he wondered.

She cleared her throat, they were getting off course. She took a large swig of her beer and noticed his near to empty bottle. "You want another? On me," she offered.

He looked genuinely grateful at the thought but shook his head. "No thanks, I think I've had enough," he concluded.

"So what about you?" he asked her slowly.

She looked down at her beer. "Still going," she informed him with quiet smile, raising the bottle for effect.

"No I mean, what about your partner?" he confirmed.

She fiddled with the beer bottle in front of her and averted her eyes. She didn't want to talk about Elliot, not with a complete stranger but he had opened up to her and she felt as if she owed him something.

"We're close," she admitted.

As soon as she said the words she realized it was a lie. They weren't close, not anymore. They barely spoke or strung more than two sentences together. They used to be close. She almost as felt as if she should correct herself.

"How long?" he asked her.

"How long what?" she was confused by the question and took a swig of her beer.

"How long have you been sleeping together?" he confirmed.

She nearly choked on the liquid. "Silverman, I.. we aren't sleeping together," she said expelling a breath.

He gave her a look as if he didn't buy it.

"He's married," she reiterated.

Another lie. His ring finger had been bare for a few months now but he hadn't talked about it so who really knew at that point. She couldn't keep track.

Silverman shrugged. "So was Grace," he said with a sad mile. "A marriage can't outlast a partnership." The words hit her hard.

"Well it's not like that with my partner," she confirmed. Another pang of guilt.

He watched her carefully, still not buying it. "That's not what Porter says," Silverman told her with a shrug.

Her eyebrows rose and her mind started to swarm. Porter and Silverman had been talking. She tried to remain calm. "Oh yeah, and you and Porter are close?" Suddenly she didn't want to hear the answer.

"Yeah we've known each other for years. We went to collage together and met up later at the academy."

_Rarely cross paths my ass._

She nodded. "So you called him then," she tried to sound relaxed. "To check out my story?" Her heart was thumping a mile at how close these two were and just how much information they had shared.

He nodded, picking at the corner of the label on his beer. "Yeah, your story checked out. It's funny," he laughed as if he were recalling a memory. "He had told me about this hot detective he had a thing for. I just didn't put it together at the time that it was you."

She was livid. Porter knew the whole time. Running into her in the lobby that night was no coincidence. He'd known she was there, held for hours upon end and he didn't do a damn thing about it. He just swooped in at the last minute to play hero.

"Anyway so he mentioned something about your partner keeping you on a short leash and that was that," he shrugged.

Her jaw clicked and she did her best not to retaliate. She couldn't blow this because of a personal jab from a prick like Porter. She needed to get back on course, she had come this far. "Look, I know we got off on the wrong foot earlier, but I can help," she said slowly.

His eyebrows rose and he ripped the label of the beer clean off. "Oh yeah and how exactly do you think you can help me," he scoffed.

She picked up on the skepticism and realized this may not have been the best avenue. She wished he had taken her up on that last beer. "I can help you find her," she said quietly, maintaining eye contact so he'd see she was serious.

He slammed a fist down on the table and she jumped slightly. Their beer bottles rattled under the blow and few heads turned in their direction. She didn't take her eyes off Silverman. "You can't do shit detective," he said nearly choking on the anger.

She felt her cheeks flush with nerves and her palms start to perspire. "I've had a _bit_ of experience in the field Silverman," she emphasized with sarcasm.

"Rape victims are one thing detective, but once my partner was smuggled through the boarders of Iran, I might as well have blown my brains out because I have no hope in hell finding her." His outburst was loud and unforgiving.

Iran. A few more blocks fell into place. The Middle Eastern connection. He was right, she was out of her league to a point but sex crimes were universal. She still had a lot to offer.

"Iran," she repeated and she tried not to look too concerned.

"That's right detective, Iran. One of the few countries in the world that refuse to comply with even the minimal standards for eliminating trafficking. The lack of access our U.S. Government officials have prohibits the collection of data on the country's current human trafficking problem. To this date we have no solid evidence that Iran's government even have active law enforcement against it so you realize Detective Benson that had we not intervened when we had you would have had a haystacks chance of getting found."

He broke the eye contact. "Just like my partner," he finished off in a whisper.

Her mind was reeling, she felt the bile build up the back of her throat and sucked in a breath.

"You still think you can help now detective?" he said shaking his head.

"Give me a chance Silverman, we can work this together-" she started.

"I suggest you go back to the city, deal with your small town cases and thank your lucky stars that you still can," he finished off in a yell. He stood up then suddenly and stormed away, making a beeline for the door.

She sat lent back against the booth and let out the breath she was holding. She hesitated only briefly as she analyzed her options. She made her decision and followed him out the bar. She found him in the parking lot, he was trying to insert the key into the lock of his car and she came up behind him.

"Do you really think you should be driving?" she said with distress. See could see her breath against the night air it was so cold.

"Jesus Benson, you're a glutton for punishment," he spoke shaking his head. He finally managed to open the door. She moved forward and pushed it close again. He wobbled a little on his feet and tried to steady himself against the door.

"Give me your keys," she directed. "I'll drive you home."

He laughed at the thought and tried to open the door again but she was leaning on it. "I don't need your help," he said, still attempting to open the door despite her body weight.

She reached then for the keys and easily grabbed them from his hand. He sighed and leant up against the car door, closing his eyes.

"Get in," she said softly.

"No," he refused.

"Get in," she repeated.

He managed to push himself off the car door and moved around the passenger side. She unlocked the car and got into the drivers seat. Silverman gave her his address and apart from loose directions to his house they drove in silence.

As they pulled up to a set of traffic lights the silence was deafening. She didn't know whether she should fill the silence with small talk or just let it be.

"You're a lot like her you know," he said out of the blue.

"Assertive, brash, no-nonsense, confrontational… hot."

She smiled to herself still looking ahead.

"She also had a streak of stupidity," he sighed into the silence.

The lights went green and she continued on, trying not to take offence.

"I didn't want her going under on this one, I knew the steaks were too high, but she's nothing if not stubborn," he told her.

"Why your partner?" she asked carefully. "Why me?"

"Iran predominantly traffic women from Afghanistan, Iraq, Pakistan, Eastern Europe, China Bangladesh, Russia. They're a dime a dozen. There's an emerging trend for high-class American sex workers and it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out you two were the pick of the bunch."

"And Sin's involvement?" she treaded carefully knowing that at any moment he could put a stop on the free information flow.

"Sin is an underground gentleman's club, you can't find it on google maps and it's caliber of women is unparalleled. But it exists to serve a higher purpose, the corrupt management harvest women and supply their international contacts with headshots and footage of the women. The selection is then made as is the trade. As I'm sure you're aware it's a lot easier for sex workers to fall off the map than the ordinary American citizens," he spoke with sadness.

"What about the women who were killed?" she asked as they came up to another stoplight.

"We believe they knew too much, Sin couldn't risk them going to authorities," Silverman confirmed.

"Do you have any leads?" she asked.

She was keeping the questions flowing, she was on a roll.

"No," he said quietly. "From Philadelphia airport we believe they had transportation chartered to deliver you and my partner to Ukraine," he told her.

"I thought you said Iran." She was confused.

"Ukraine acts as the transit country that traffics women to numerous locations, from there you were set to be shipped to Iran," he spoke. His tone was becoming more and more deflated and she felt a surge of guilt at how much information she had extracted.

"Why are you telling me all of this?" she whispered.

He didn't answer her and she shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She knew something was wrong, she didn't have a good feeling about this.

"Left at the lights," he said quietly.

She pulled up into the driveway he indicated and shut off the engine. She didn't make any sudden motions to move, she was waiting for him. He clicked off his seat belt but didn't get out of the car. She tried to control her breathing and waited him out.

A few beats passed and he opened the passenger door and got out of the car. She followed his lead by clicking off her seat belt and opening her door. As she exited the car and he was right there practically caging her. Her defenses flared but she didn't feel as if she were in danger, just uncomfortable.

"Silverman-" she began but he cut her off.

"Go home Olivia," he said quietly. The surprise that he remembered her first name broke across her face. She wondered how much more he knew about her.

"Go home and tell your partner how you feel," he said with a penetrating gaze. "Before it's too late," he whispered. His words made her unsteady on her feet and she felt a severe amount of empathy for him. She didn't respond, she simply dug her hand into the back pocket of her jeans and pulled out one of her cards.

"Please, just think about it," she told him and held out her business card. He looked at her hands but reached instead for the other containing his keys.

"Good night detective," he said softly.

With that he walked away from her leaving her standing in his drive way with a feeling of unexpected emptiness.

**::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**

Olivia lay on the moderately uncomfortable hotel bed and stared up at the ceiling.

She got the answers she had come for but felt more unfilled than when she first arrived. The deflation and helplessness over the lack of power she had to intervene was overwhelming. She realized this venture had been nothing but a selfish quest for her own answers. The worst of it was, there was something about Silverman's eyes and tone of voice that made her believe he had given up on his partner.

_Elliot wouldn't have. _

She knew she should be grateful that that her wagon had been stopped but it just left her feeling guilty and somewhat responsible. Her life had been spared and for what? She had no family, few friends and little purpose. After her routine in the interview room and her performance tonight she bet Silverman looked at her with an overwhelming sense of regret, he'd saved the wrong wagon.

She'd seen the look in his eyes when she told him she had no children, just as disappointed as when she told him there was nothing going between her and Elliot.

_Tell your partner how you feel before it's too late._

She pushed her hand into her jean pocket and slid out her phone. She fingered it for a few moments before she made the call. It rang a few times and she held her breath not sure of what she would even say if he answered. They weren't even partners anymore, a thought that she'd fought so hard not to believe she'd almost forgotten it was the truth.

She heard the line pick up. "Hey," he said softly.

She sat up abruptly as if she had expected it to go to his voicemail. "Hey," she repeated.

After that she lost her train of thought and couldn't seem to formulate a word. She sensed his concern before he spoke.

"You ok?" he asked.

_No._

She tried to push the emotion aside because breaking down on the phone wouldn't help anyone.

"Liv?" His concern was rising by the second.

"Yeah," she finally expelled in a breath and she swallowed. "Yeah I'm ok." She should ask him about his case, about his kids, about his wellbeing but he'd see through the small talk and frankly she couldn't face it.

"I… um," she started. She tried again. "I was hoping you could do me a favor and talk to Cragen," she asked with a hint of hesitation. She waded through the short silence and wondered if Elliot was still on the line.

"About what?" he sounded confused.

Her mind ticked over at just how she was going to word this. When she didn't answer he took a guess.

"Liv," he said with exasperation. "He's not going to back down on the 2 weeks."

"No, it's not that," she said stopping him in his tracks.

"Then what?" Elliot pressed with a mix of confusion and concern.

She sighed into the receiver and closed her eyes, she needed to say it before she lost her nerve. She needed to say it before it was too late.

"I don't want a new partner Elliot," she said quietly.

The minutes ticked over and the silence on the other end of the phone was deafening. Her heart was thumping a mile as she waited for his response.

"Liv," he began and she could hear the deflation in his voice. It killed her.

No. She needed him to fight for them, she couldn't bare him giving up like Silverman had.

"Liv," he repeated and just like that she knew his next words would change everything.

"_I_ requested the partner change."

Her eyes widened, her breath caught and she felt as if she'd been punched in the gut.

A few moments of silence was all she could bare before she clicked off the phone call and let the phone fall from her grasp.

**TBC**


	4. Chapter 4

Sorry for the delay on this one - this chapter was tough and I wanted to get it right but I'm still not sure if I did. I just want to take this opportunity to reiterate that this is a heavy fic not a light and fluffy love fest so please only proceed if you're cool with that. Thanks heaps for your continued interest – appreciate each and every word!

**Chapter 4**

She hadn't moved for at least half an hour.

She lay on the hotel bed staring up at the ceiling as the silent tears ran down the sides of her face trickling into her neck. He wanted the partner change, not Cragen. She felt completely betrayed and foolish for thinking he'd given two shits about her.

She had turned the phone onto vibrate and it had only just stopped buzzing a short while ago. She didn't want to hear what he had to say, she didn't want the excuses, the pity or the bullshit. She'd put everything on the line for him and he'd given up, just like that.

A knock on her hotel room rattled her thoughts and she looked over at the clock.

11:23pm

It certainly wasn't housekeeping at this hour and her heart began to thump in her chest. She wiped away the tears and got up quickly wishing she had the comfort of her weapon with her. She held her breath as she looked through the peephole and with a mixed feeling of anxiousness and annoyance she saw the familiar face.

Porter.

"Olivia, open up it's important," he called through the door knowing full well she was on the other side.

She sighed. "What are you doing here Porter?"

"Olivia, open the door." He had a concerned look on his face and knew there would be a very slim chance of successfully refusing him.

She opened the door up and he immediately pushed his way inside, she stumbled backwards as he slammed the door and locked the latch. Her breath caught at his abrupt nature and just as she was about to comment he cut her off.

"What did you say to him?" Porter was eyeing her with a look of disbelief.

Her eyebrows came together. "Who?"

"Silverman," Porter said with impatience. "What did you say to him?"

Her mouth opened and closed a couple of times before she spoke. "What is going on?"

Porter looked away then and caught a glimpse of her open window. He stalked over towards it, pulling the blinds down. She felt a rush of apprehension flood through her.

"Porter, what the hell?" she pushed.

He took the steps back towards her and eyed her luggage. "Pack your things now, you're coming with me," he told her directly.

Her eyes widened and she laughed but it was devoid of humor. "No," she refused.

"Olivia, pack your things now," he repeated and she could see the frustration straining in his face.

"Tell me what's going on," she urged.

He moved then, grabbing her bag, tossing it onto the bed and beginning to collect her stuff. As he picked up a pile of her clothes she moved in front of the suitcase and blocked his efforts.

"What the hell do you think you're doing," she said shocked. When he tried to put the clothes in the bag she pulled them clean away and tossed them onto the floor.

"Tell me what's going on Porter, or I'm calling the front desk security," she said with a seriousness.

He just eyed her looking as if he would lose it at any moment. When he didn't respond she picked up the hotel phone and he launched at her grasping the receiver from her hand. She didn't let go and in the heat of their struggle his body rammed her into the bedside table. She dropped the receiver and it crashed onto the floor, the cord dangled awkwardly and the room went silent. She was half perched on the bedside table as he moved off her and put his hands up in apology. She was looking at him like she was going to kill him.

"I'm sorry," he apologized. "Don't make this harder than it has to be."

Her eyes narrowed at him and she felt threatened like he wasn't going to take no for an answer. Her hands gripped the phone base as a warning.

"Get out," she seethed.

A few moments of silence passed.

"Pack your stuff," he told her through gritted teeth. "Now."

She moved then, without another thought and brought the phone base up slamming it clear into his temple. It rattled him giving her enough time to scramble towards her mobile phone that was sitting on the bed. She saw the 16 missed calls were from Porter, not Elliot. What the hell?

He grabbed her then by the ankle and dragged her down the bed. She twisted around so she was on her back and he dropped his body weight on top of hers. He ceased the phone, tossed it to the floor and as she attempted to fight off his body weight he ceased her wrists.

"Get off me," she demanded still catching her breath. She could feel his ragged breath on her neck and was moments before kneeing him where it hurts when he spoke.

"Silverman is dead."

Her wrists stilled against him and her whole body froze. She felt dizzy and nauseous and suddenly she couldn't breathe.

"Your finger prints are all over his car and your business card was in his wiper blade. You've got about 10 minutes until they come through that door," he choked on the words.

She closed her eyes and took in the information Porter was giving her. What the fuck was going on?

"Come with me now, or spend the next week in interrogation," he stressed.

"But I didn't do anything-"

"A federal agent is dead Olivia, they don't care."

She started to twist against him again, moving her wrists making it known she was uncomfortable.

"Get off me you son of a bitch," she groaned under his weight.

He didn't move. "I have a gun and handcuffs Olivia, don't make me do this the hard way."

She couldn't believe this. The bastard was threatening her.

"Screw you," she spat and tried to knee him between the legs but his body was too close to cause any lasting pain. He groaned in her ear regardless and seized both of her wrists in one of his hands. He used his free hand to release his weapon and she felt it dig into her waist. She made a small sound at the pressure.

"Pack. Your. Stuff," he instructed.

Her heart was thumping madly and she was trying to catch her breath under Porter's weight. He released her wrists then, slowly as if testing how she would react once they were free. He then started to get off her and she felt an instant amount of relief when his body left hers. He was still holding the gun in his hands but he wasn't pointing it at her.

"Be smart about this Olivia," he warned.

She got up then, eyeing his hand carrying his weapon and shook her head at her helplessness. She picked up the clothes that were on the floor and put them into the bag. She collected the few items on the side table and her phone off the floor and started to walk to the bathroom. He followed her in there to ensure she didn't try and thing and watched as she collected the small amount of toiletries she had.

She stuffed them in her bag and zipped it up. He picked it up and motioned with his hand that carried the gun to the door. That's when they heard it. A knock.

She turned to Porter who was sporting a panicked expression and he motioned to the window. She felt uneasy, why would he go to all this trouble just to help her avoid incarceration? She could easily justify her actions tonight and prove her innocence, there had to be something he wasn't telling her.

A second knock rattled the door, more impatient this time. Porter raised his weapon then, pointing it at her with urgency. He wasn't kidding around.

She moved over to the window, opened the blinds and the frame as quietly as she could. She climbed out onto the fire escape and Porter quickly followed, nudging her out. They made it to his car that was parked in a back ally and Porter tossed her bag in the back seat.

She took the passenger seat as he rounded the car and got in. When he didn't start the engine immediately she looked over at him and he was reaching for something. When he pulled out his pair of handcuffs her eyes went wide. He tossed them at her.

"Put them on," he said with an edge of irritation.

She picked them up and tossed them back at him. "I'm complying Porter, these aren't necessary," she told him pissed off.

She heard him exhale deeply before reaching over and grasping one of her arms. She pulled determinedly away from him but he yanked hard snapping the bracelet around her wrist and before she had a chance to resist he had clicked the other bracelet into the door handle. She tugged on it a few times and realized she wasn't going anywhere.

"Son of a bitch," she muttered under her breath and sank back into the chair.

"I know you Olivia," he said quietly into the car. "I'm not taking any chances."

With that he turned the engine and pulled away from the curb.

**::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**

They drove for 20 minutes before Olivia knew something was wrong. The backstreets of Washington D.C. were now long gone and Porter was turning onto the US-50 E with signs pointing to Maryland.

"Where are you taking me?" she said doing her best to sound calm but the silence from Porter heightened her anxiety. She watched as he merged onto the 4-lane highway.

"What did you say to Silverman?" he asked her quietly.

Her heart was thumping wildly in her chest and she remained silent. She wasn't sure what he was referring to and wanted answers of her own.

"What happened to him?" she asked. She hadn't had time to process the fact that he was dead and she felt her throat constrict.

He ignored her question. "Why were you in his car?" He sounded angry.

She sighed closing her eyes. If she didn't answer soon they would continue this cat and mouse game all the way to god knows where.

"He had too much to drink, I was driving him home," she said quietly. She had tried to save his life and ironically he ended up loosing it.

Porter scoffed and Olivia narrowed her eyes at him.

"In other words, you plied him with alcohol for answers," he stabbed. "Jesus Olivia, did you screw him for information too?"

She couldn't believe this. "He got himself drunk and freely offered up information," she stabbed back defensively.

"That doesn't sound like Silverman," Porter pressed.

She smiled to herself. "I thought you rarely crossed paths?" she said with sarcasm and watched Porter shift in his seat, uncomfortable at the knowledge she could have acquired. She played on it.

"I know you went to college with him Porter," she continued. "I know he called you to confirm my identity but you still left me in there for 50 hours. I know you weren't in that hotel lobby by coincidence that night. I know you're full of shit."

She watched his knuckles turn white on the steering wheel and he was muttering something under his breath.

"You going to deny it?" she pressed.

He went silent then. She was looking at the side of his face and he was staring straight ahead. She shifted in her seat and when she tried to move her arm she realized she was still handcuffed to the door. Her mind wondered to where the keys might be and how far away her phone was.

"Despite what you think Olivia, I am doing this to help you," he told her.

She shook her head. "Bullshit," she laid into him. "I can easily explain my actions tonight but I'm going to go out on a limb and assume you can't say the same."

He looked over at her then, just for a second before returning his eyes to the road.

"You didn't give two shits when they had me locked up for 50 hours and now all of a sudden you're driving me cross country to avoid an interview-"

"This is a federal death Olivia and you're the last person to see Silverman alive," he yelled into the car. "They have witnesses placing you at the bar, having a verbal altercation with him and then getting into his car. That coupled with the recent interview treatment he put you through gives you motive. They don't care about the truth, they just want justice."

She fingered the handcuffs. She could see how it looked and it didn't look good but she still couldn't figure out what Porter had to gain from this.

"And what about you?" she asked softly. She looked over at him and he was confused by the question. "You tipped me off, led me to the Brewhouse to find Silverman, they can place me in your car, in your bed, they can track our past Porter, what? Afraid if they interview me I'll sell you down the river?"

He went silent and she was getting frustrated by the minute. She was so unbelievably sick of being left out of the loop. He was merging on the MD-295 N when he spoke again.

"You told me it was about a case," he said sternly. "You lied to me."

"How does it feel?" she said with spite.

"This isn't a game Olivia, you screw up at work and Cragen gives you a slap on the wrist and a vacation," he spat. "You screw up in mine and it's game over," he finished.

She closed her eyes trying to ignore all the information he had on her and just what Porter was up against.

"How was he killed?" she said quietly, knowing full well she wouldn't get an answer.

She was trying to get her bearings and when she saw a sign for Baltimore the familiarity hit her suddenly. It had been harder to tell at night but he was taking the same route the officer had the other day. They were headed to New York City.

"Porter, it's past midnight, tell me we're not driving to the city," she pressed. When he didn't answer her she sunk back into her seat and tried to get comfortable.

"What happened to Silverman?" she tried again.

Porter looked in his rear view mirror and the back to the road. "The less you know the better," he told her.

She closed her eyes and thought back to when she had first met him, so much had changed.

"I can't believe I ever trusted you," she said quietly.

"I've learnt not to trust anyone Olivia," he told her with a sense of sadness. "You should do the same."

She closed her eyes. She trusted Elliot, with her life and that would never change.

_I requested the partner change._

Then as if he were reading her mind he asked her. "You sleeping with him yet?"

Her eyes narrowed and she lost it.

"Go to hell." Her words vibrated through the car. She was so over the constant assumption that she was sleeping with her partner.

He raised his eyebrows and looked over at her. "I hit a nerve?"

She went silent then, she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of biting back. She closed her eyes and lent back into the chair, she was exhausted as hell but she couldn't relax. Not chained to the door with Dean Porter in the car.

"You know he followed you to D.C.," Porter told her and her eyes snapped open.

She took a few moments for the information to sink in. He couldn't have, he had no idea she was even going to D.C.

"No he didn't," she said dismissively. This was just another one of Porter's tactics.

"When you left the coffee shop," Porter started. "He cornered me." He lifted up his right hand for emphasis and she could see the fresh bruising.

Her heart started to race. She thought about the phone call she made to Elliot and how close he seemed. She thought about the knocks on her door tonight, after Porter arrived. If it really had been the FBI wouldn't they have announced themselves. Jesus Christ. Suddenly she was having trouble breathing and she felt like she was going to be sick. She looked over at Porter and he was staring straight ahead with a deadpan expression.

"Like I said Olivia, trust no one."

**::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**

She must have dozed off because when she opened her eyes again Porter was pulling into a gas station and had clicked off the engine.

He unbuckled his seat belt and she closed her eyes again pretending to be asleep as he exited the car. She waited until he filled up and headed into the shop before she opened her eyes again.

She sprung into action and turned around, doing her best to reach her bag that was in the back seat. It was proving difficult with one free arm but she managed to secure one of the handles and pulled it towards her. She did her best to unzip the bag as far as she could given the constraints and dug her hand in, pleading that the first item she would find would be her phone.

No such luck. She felt everything but, her toiletries bag, her clothes, her wallet and keys. She saw him then heading back towards the car just as she seized what appeared to be her phone. She pulled it out and dug it into her jean pocket as Porter rounded the car. _Fuck._

Porter was holding an iced coffee and a bottle of water, he put the coffee into his cup holder and handed her the water. She shook her head and he looked at her strangely. He placed the water into the second cup holder and turned the engine. He pulled out of the gas station and Olivia caught sight of a road sign indicating that Philadelphia and the New Jersey Turnpike were ahead. They seemed to be on track. She thought about the phone in her pocket and the fact that Porter wouldn't be stopping anytime soon now that the tank was full.

She sucked in a breath. "I need to use the bathroom," she said quietly.

There was silence and she waited.

"We just stopped," he said with a strained sigh.

"Well I need to go," she pressed.

"You can hold it Olivia, you've lasted a lot longer," he said annoyed.

Her eyebrows drew together at his statement. She thought about the interview room and it clicked into place. Her stomach dropped.

"You were behind the glass," she said slowly as if it all made sense now. His avid interest in covering this up no longer seemed left field.

"You were working this case weren't you, with Silverman?" she pushed. She was looking at him now demanding he answer her. He wasn't there to help her escape he was protecting his case, his ass. There was that nauseating silence again.

"How long did you know I was involved?" she said quietly.

Still nothing. Just as she was about to speak a sharp buzzing vibrated against her hip and she jumped slightly. He looked over at her with a concerned look on his face.

"What was that?" he demanded.

"What was what?" She tried to feign ignorance.

It kept buzzing and he looked over his shoulder catching the unzipped bag. He turned the wheel pulling over abruptly and she grasped the car door for stability, car horns screeched and headlights darted from side to side. He put the car in park.

"Give me the phone," he said loudly.

She just stared at him with a look of disbelief. "You could have killed us," she pressed.

He clicked his seat belt off and launched for her side pocket but she was too quick. She grabbed his hand and twisted it. He retracted it immediately and slammed his fist into the side of her seat.

"Damn it Olivia," he yelled.

Not sure why she was doing it she reached for the car door and opened it quickly getting out. She was still cuffed to the door but he wasted no time getting out from his side. He slammed the door shut and rounded the car towards her. She dove back into her seat, pulled the door shut and reached over as far as she could to his side, hitting the central locking. She locked herself into the silence and couldn't believe it had worked.

He was thumping on the window next to her, trying in vain to open her door but she had locked the car from the inside. She pulled the phone from her pocket and saw the missed calls from Elliot.

She hit return call and it rang. Once.

"Where are you?" Elliot's panicked voice began and just as she was about to respond a gunshot ripped through the glass window and shattered around her.

The phone dropped to the floor in her effort to shield herself from the glass and he was unlocking the door from the inside. He pulled it open and she went with the door, her ass hitting the ground, her wrist still hanging from it's capture on the door.

Porter picked up the phone and quickly silenced the call. She was still catching her breath, trying to block out the pain of the irritated skin around her wrist. Porter was looking down at her.

"Get up," he told her and his tone had gone from pissed off to livid.

Her heart was thumping in her chest. She didn't think Porter would have reduced to firing his weapon, that she wasn't prepared for. With a pang of fear she wondered what other lengths he would go to. She got up awkwardly, trying to pull herself up against the car door, she looked down at the broken glass on the seat unsure of how to proceed.

He tossed her phone then, sent it soaring clean into the bushes on the side of the highway and she felt unsteady on her feet. Cars were speeding past at a rapid pace and she wondered why none of them were stopping. He shoved his weapon back into his holster and stepped towards her, internally she was panicking but did her best to look unaffected.

He dug a hand in his pocket and fished out the handcuff key and he uncuffed her wrist. He wasted no time grasping her elbow and pushing her roughly up against the side of the car.

"Hands out," he told her and she pressed her hands against the side of the car, confused as to what he was doing. She felt his hands pat down her arms then her torso, inside her leather jacket, stopping at her waist and jean pockets.

"Spread your legs," he spoke against the back of her head and she hesitated momentarily before reluctantly complying. He continued down her legs, feeling for anything else she might have put on her body she assumed.

When he found nothing he came back up her body and his hands moved across her stomach and up to the underside of her breasts. Instinct took over and she jerked back and jutted an elbow into his side. He grabbed her hard, pushing her up against the car, she felt his whole body sandwiching hers against the car.

"I'm not taking any chances Olivia," he explained.

She gave into his hold and her body relaxed against his initiating submission. He came off her and spoke to the back of her head. "Get in the back," he told her quietly.

She felt nauseous and lightheaded and wanted answers. "What are you going to do to me?" she said quietly.

The moments of silence were unbearable as she felt Porters breath against the back of her neck. "Nothing if you do what you're told."

She opened the car door and got in. He took the cuffs and attached them to the back door.

When he reached for her wrist she didn't resist as she had no chance against a loaded weapon and a man not afraid to use it. He shut the door and rounded the car and opened the door opposite her, he grabbed her luggage and moved it to the trunk.

When he got into the drivers seat he looked ahead for a few moments before he started the engine. He pulled out into the traffic and she felt him hit the accelerator, a lot harder than before. She watched the speed climb up and she instinctively reached for her seatbelt. When she tried to pull it across her chest she realized she was blocked by the cuffs. She was going to say something when Porter started talking.

"We have just under 2 hours until we hit the city and I don't want to hear another word," he told her directly with a seriousness she'd never heard before.

"I'm going to drop you off at your apartment and you're going to tell Elliot and Cragen and anyone that asks that you're fine. You don't say a word about this to anyone, not the case, not Silverman, not me," he told her.

She watched as they passed all of the cars on the road at an increasing speed and pulled the seatbelt over her arm and clicked it across her regardless. She wanted to tell him to slow down, that it dangerous but that would probably set him off at this point.

"When I drop you off Olivia that better be the last time I see you or so help me god," he finished off out of breath.

She gripped the door handle out of instinct, her focus was not on his words but the cars on the opposite side rushing past at an insane speed. She had to say something.

"Porter please slow down," she urged.

She knew then that whatever Porter was caught up in was bigger than Ben Hur. She wondered if she had been anyone else if he would have expended them hours ago. It wouldn't be a stretch, he had covered up a murders and put multiple lives on the line for his job. The whole corporation was corrupt.

"What did I say Olivia? Not another word. Do we have an understanding?" he asked her. When she didn't answer him, he turned then catching a glimpse of her face. "Do we have an understanding?" he repeated more forcibly.

She saw it then the car was drifting it's way into oncoming traffic. She heard the car horn and he read it on her face before her mouth opened.

"Porter!" she screamed. He turned around just as their car clipped an on coming vehicle on the opposite side of the highway. She felt the car spin in circles and the gravity pull was relentless. She grabbed the car door and her seat belt simultaneously. She heard the screeching of the breaks, car horns and screams all melding into one. She squeezed her eyes shut waiting for the inevitable crash that would end it all.

The car came to an abrupt stop and she slowly opened her eyes realizing with an overwhelming sense of relief that they were still upright and intact. She saw the smoke around the car that was rising from the tires. Her breathing was erratic and she watched Porter turn his head back to her with a shocked but relieved look on his face.

"You ok?" he whispered.

She saw it then, the headlights, the noise, a car getting closer and she closed her eyes.

She felt it slam into them head on, she held on for dear life as they skidded backward before the whole car flipped and rolled, once twice, she wasn't sure. She let out a gut-wrenching scream as she felt her seatbelt cut into her ribs, and her arm and gravity pulled her towards the roof of the car. She hung there holding herself up with her free arm as the other was attached to the door, sandwiched between the seatbelt.

She couldn't see shit, she couldn't breathe. Her bearings were shot to hell and she couldn't hear Porter. She didn't want to look, she didn't want to think of the damage a head-on impact could cause to the front seat.

"Porter," her voice was weak and horse from the upside angle and she choked on the word.

"Porter, please," she repeated. Please just be alive.

She could hear dripping coming from somewhere and she prayed it wasn't the gas tank. Damn it he had just filled the tank. She was shaking now as she reached towards her waist finding the buckle that would ease the unyielding cutting at her ribs and arm. She fumbled momentarily before she found it, clicking it a few times before it managed to release her.

Gravity gave way and her head hit the roof of the car, she moaned in pain and she could smell the gas now. The fumes were intoxicating. She felt it spitting against her, getting on her clothes, her skin. He was dead, he had to be. He wasn't saying shit and she would die here too because of these fucking handcuffs.

She twisted her body and urged herself to open her eyes and she saw him, trapped against the mangled carnage of the car. She looked at the seat next to him and had she been sitting there she would have been crushed by the massacre of metal.

"Porter," she reached out and managed to grasp his shoulder, shaking him. His head rolled immediately to the side and a spread of blood pooled downward. She tried to hold the tears back. The gas was pooling on the roof just above her head and she could feel it soaking into her hair.

She thought about Elliot and all the things she never got the chance to say. She thought about how angry he would be when he found out she'd done this to herself. She thought about Sin, the night she fought so hard to block out and overcome she was at her bodies response to his. She thought about how badly she wanted to live now when previously death hadn't seemed so bad.

She launched forward and stretched herself as far as she could in an effort to reach Porter's pocket in search of the keys to cuffs. Her handcuffs jarred her efforts and she couldn't get to him from that angle. The metal dug into her already raw skin and she dropped herself back against the roof of the car in defeat.

The tears came openly then, she knew it was hopeless. Her lungs were filling with the gas fumes and she could see the bright flicker of fire in the not to distant future. It was only matter of time. She closed her eyes and tried not to let her sobs overcome her. She wanted to scream, yell, breakdown but her body was devoid of energy. Suddenly a thump next to her snapped her out of her daze, something had hit the side of her window.

She looked over and someone was there, attempting to smash her window. She blocked her face from the on coming object shattering the glass and relief spilled through her at the thought of survival. She felt hands scraping the glass away and grabbing at her bicep attempting to pull her out but she resisted. She couldn't turn to see them from that angle so she just yelled.

"I can't." She pulled at her handcuff for emphasis.

"Liv, where are the keys?" She heard his voice and she thought she must be dreaming. That wasn't Elliot, it was impossible. "Where are they?" he pushed with urgency. That was him, that was definitely him.

"Porter has them, but I can't reach," she sobbed reaching out her hand, showing him how far away she was. It was then that she noticed with a pang of dread that the fire was getting increasingly closer.

"Elliot, Jesus, you need to get out of here," she yelled as she saw the fire running the oil spill on the highway, coming their way.

He ignored her. "I want you to slide out the window Olivia, legs first and I'm going to pull you out backwards."

She groaned. "Elliot, it's no use I'm stuck, get back before it's-"

He reached in and grasped her legs that were curled under the seat and pulled them through the window. She let out a sound of discomfort as he dragged her awkwardly out of the car. She came out face down with her arm still attached to the door of the upside down car. She had a clear view of the fire now, winding through the gas puddle getting closer and closer. She saw him attempt to slide through the window but she kicked him hard in the ribs and he fell backwards onto the cement.

"Don't you dare," she yelled tears streaming uncontrollably. "Get out of here Elliot."

He watched her for only a millisecond before he pushed her aside and slipped his body through the small entrance to the car. She lent her head against the warm steel and waited for any moment they would go up in flames.

She felt the heat then, the side of the car was on fire and she was screaming at him to get out of there. Suddenly he was moving himself backward, out of the burning vehicle and grasping at her wrist. He was shaking when he tried to insert the key kept missing the lock, he inserted it on the third try and ripped the metal from her wrist.

He pulled her to her feet and they made it 8 maybe 10 steps when she felt the blast catapult them off the edge highway. She hit the ground hard and slid down the embankment into the foliage.

She landed with a thud and groaned as her hip connected with a tree stump. She closed her eyes at the cool feeling of the grass beneath her and took a few moments to catch her breath. She wanted to call out his name, ensure he was ok but she couldn't get her voice to cooperate.

She finally managed to roll her body over and spotted him only a few body lengths away. It appeared she was flung further in the blast. He looked still but she wouldn't let herself think about the possibilities of what that could mean.

"Elliot," she called out from where she was lying, desperately hoping she'd see his body react to her words.

When he didn't move she crawled over to him and she felt every ache rip across her body. Her hip was killing from where she landed, her arm and stomach were stinging from where the seatbelt had cut her and her wrist was red raw. She made it to his side and saw the gash on the side of his head and felt the tears starting to well.

"El," she said softly moving in, her hands cupped his face as she tiling his head to get a better look. When he didn't react she moved her hands down to his shoulders and shook him slightly.

"Elliot," she called again out more desperately than before. She tried to suppress tears that were brimming at the surface. "Don't do this to me," she whispered to herself more than anyone.

She heard it then, a small moan and his left hand moved up and bumped her thigh. The relief soared through her.

"El, are you ok?" she shook him again and his eyes stammered open.

The tears she had tried to suppress spilled down her cheeks and he watched her struggle to formulate words. He let his thumb smooth across her cheek swiping away a tear before he moved his hand behind her head. A few beats passed before he pulled her lips down to his.

She let out a sound as he pressed his lips against hers and when she opened her mouth intent on protesting he pulled her lower lip between his. She melted into him as his other hand came up to frame her cheek and his tongue trailed the entrance to her mouth.

"El-" she tired, intending on stopping him but he used her open mouth to an advantage and moved in kissing her hard. She moaned as his tongue found it's way into her mouth and she let herself go. As he grasped the lapel of her jacket intending on pulling her down further she somehow managed to push out of his grasp, her lips left his and her breathing was erratic.

"Stop El, we need," She was shaking from the adrenaline and his kiss, they needed to focus.

"We need help."

She heard sirens in the near distance and she looked up and saw the headlights and smoke rising from the highway. She didn't understand why no one was rushing to their aid. When she looked back at Elliot his eyes were closed again, his hand still secured on the lapel of her jacket. She felt for his phone in his pocket and pulled it out. She saw the cracked screen and tried to work it regardless, it was dead.

"El can you move?" she asked him out of breath and he didn't respond. She shook him again and the hand that was holding her jacket fell limp to the ground. Her throat caught, this is not happening. With a shaky hand she moved two fingers to his neck and felt for a pulse. She could feel it, but it was faint.

She sprung into action then and adrenaline must have taken over because she was kneeling now and pushing herself onto her feet. She felt the stabbing pain in her side and her hip and did her best to push through it and climb the embankment of the highway.

Slowly but surely she'd made her way up the hill and that's when she saw the debilitating destruction that had been caused. At least 8 cars were smashing, upturned, with smoke and steam pouring towards the sky. When she caught sight of the fire engine and ambulance she let out the breath she was holding.

"We need help down here."

**::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**

A minor head injury.

That's what the doctors were telling her and they'd have to keep him over night for observation. Using a payphone she had called Kathy and Cragen.

Cragen ripped her a new one, furious at the knowledge that she had gone interstate after a federal case when she was directly told to drop it and livid that Elliot had followed her. He told her she needed to get back to the precinct immediately, that the feds wanted her for questioning on the death of two agents and that he could only hold them off for so long.

She told Cragen she was staying with Elliot.

Calling Kathy had been harder. She asked her what Elliot was doing in D.C. and she wasn't sure what to say. She twisted the truth telling her it was for a case but she could hear the skepticism on the other line. Kathy asked her if she should come to the hospital and Olivia was surprised it was even a question. The hospital was 2 hours from the city and he was in recovery but despite the status of their relationship he was the father of her children.

"I think you should be here," she said quietly.

She waited until Kathy arrived and it was that moment when the doctor told them they could see him. Kathy looked over at Olivia with a question in her eyes but Olivia wasn't sure how to answer it. After a few moments she spoke.

"You go," she told her.

After a small moment of hesitation Kathy walked out of the waiting room and disappeared around the corner.

Olivia left the hospital.

**::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**

She went home and washed off the gas, the blood and the tears.

She looked down at the gash across her abdomen, her arm, the purple bruise at her hip and the raw skin around her wrist.

Closing her eyes she slid down the side of the shower wall until she crumpled into the corner, with the piping hot water running over her head she finally allowed herself to break down. She wasn't even sure why she was crying. For Sin, Silverman, Porter, Elliot, the crash, for everything that could have been and everything that wasn't. She had held it in for so long and she was officially exhausted.

She didn't want to talk to Cragen, to the FBI, to Haung, to Elliot to anyone. She wanted to be left alone and somehow miraculously she managed to sleep through the night without interruption.

When she woke up the next morning to her home phone ringing her entire body was aching.

**::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**

Despite the instance that he was fine they kept him in hospital for second night. If they hadn't fed him so many painkillers he would have walked out himself.

Kathy had gone home to the kids the following morning and he hadn't seen or heard from Olivia since the crash. When he asked for her, Kathy had told him she simply that she had left.

He wasn't sure what he should do with that.

He needed to see her. He'd been chasing her for days now and just when he thought he could stop running, she fell through his fingers again.

When he got back to the city he went straight to the precinct. Kathy had brought a change of clothes to the hospital so he didn't have to go home first. When he got to his desk he got a shock when he saw her coming out of Cragen's office. He recognized the surprise in her eyes too. She hadn't expected him back so soon.

"Hey," she said dispelling a breath.

"Hey," he responded feeling a little foolish at his dismal response.

He noticed Fin was watching them and it made him uncomfortable. He'd seen the footage and god knows what he was thinking right now. She was looking at him strangely and suddenly he was at a loss for words.

He scanned her body for any signs of damage but she was wearing a long sleeved v-neck top so he couldn't be sure. He wanted to pull her into a hug right then and there but damn it he couldn't seem to get his arms to work. He had been behind her when he saw the accident and watched in dread as her car spun across the highway divider into oncoming traffic. He thought it was all over. Again.

The woman had nine lives.

She stepped forward and his heart rate inclined because for a moment he thought she was going to pull him into a hug. In the middle of the station with Fin looking their way and Cragen close by in his office. He realized then that she was just moving to get a better look at his head. She tilted her head, eying the butterfly bandage on his temple.

"You ok?" she said quietly.

He nodded his response and felt a presence behind him. He lost her eye contact to them.

"I've got to go," she started. "I've got to clear this mess up with the feds." She was grabbing her jacket from the desk that was no longer hers. She left then with the agents in tow and he realized he hadn't even asked her how she was. After the accident, after Porter.

Cragen came out of his office moments later and a few beats passed before he spoke.

"You should go home."

**::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**

The feds had her for 4 hours.

She told her story multiple times to different agents. She answered different versions of the same questions. She was patient and cooperative and hid nothing because she had nothing to hide.

When she spoke about Porter she tried not to let the emotion show. She thought about the destruction in the front seat and how lucky she was that he'd put her in the back.

She didn't feel worthy.

She thought about Elliot, in D.C. on the highway, risking his life to pull her from the wreckage when he had a family and so much to lose.

She didn't feel worthy.

She thought about that mind-blowing kiss that happened in the heat of the moment and wondered if after his head injury he even remembered it.

She didn't feel worthy.

Then she thought about his face today and the way he'd looked at her. He had no words for her now and nothing left to say.

_I requested the partner change._

When they told her she could go she was confused. This was a murder investigation.

That's when they told her Silverman's case was a suicide.

**::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**

She went out.

She needed to forget. She needed to not think about Silverman ending his life after she left his house that night because he gave up on his partner. She needed to not think about Porter's motives for deception. She need to not think about the fact that she'd lost her partner. She needed to forget the lies, the betrayal, the destruction.

She needed a drink.

She put on a cocktail dress and she wasn't even sure why. She wasn't looking for attention or company but maybe that's what she needed, a stranger to help her forget if only for a night.

It was a bar she'd go to when she needed to escape the horrors of the job. It wasn't particularly close to her house or the precinct. No one would find her here. She ordered a vodka martini because she liked the idea that it came with olives and all she'd eaten today was a half a cream cheese bagel.

She saw a guy across the bar and he was looking at her. It didn't take long, but it never did.

She looked back at him at held his gaze as she lightly fingered her martini glass.

She wondered how long until he'd have her on her back.

As she took a sip of her martini her mind wandered to Elliot and _that_ night she'd put all her energy into blocking out. Sin.

His hands, his lips, his tongue, his hardness pushing into her thigh.

_I'd fuck you before I hit you._

The martini was taking affect and she couldn't stop the on flood of memories. His hands on her breasts, her ass, holding her down as she writhed beneath him.

She crossed her legs.

She couldn't do this, she couldn't think about him like that. She had never meant for it to get so out of hand but dear god had it been phenomenal.

_This won't end if they think you want me._

She shook at the memory. He'd seen right through her because she'd done a shithouse job of masking her desire. No wonder he'd requested a new partner.

Her eyes moved back to the handsome stranger and debated whether or not she should make the first move but her thoughts were interrupted.

"This your idea of taking it easy?"

Her head snapped around and she saw him. Elliot. Taking the stool next to her at the bar like he'd only been gone moments. She just watched him dumfounded.

"What are you-" she began.

"You don't have a phone," he told her simply as if that justified his presence.

Porter had tossed it.

"So you're stalking me?" she said shocked.

She watched as Elliot got the bartenders attention and ordered a beer.

"I came by your house," he started. "But you were getting into a cab." His eyes dropped to her choice of attire emphasizing.

"So you followed me," she established with a less than impressed tone.

The bartender slid the open bottle in front of Elliot and she watched as he took a generous sip.

"You've been hard to get hold of lately," he told her quietly not looking at her in the eyes.

She was angry then. Angry that he'd followed her. Angry that he'd interrupted what she thought would be an escape from it all.

"How did you know I was in D.C.?" she asked him point blank ready for a fight. She knew the answer already but she wanted to hear him say it. She wanted to hear him tell her how he'd completely invaded her privacy. When he didn't answer she drank the remnants of her martini in one quick scull and slid off the barstool. She hadn't even had a chance to eat the olives. Damn him.

"Stay out of my business Elliot," she told him as she grabbed her purse.

She felt him then, his hand wrap gently around her bicep preventing her from going anywhere. She didn't want to move then, just wanted to stand there and continue to feel the heat radiating from his palm.

"I have a right to know what my partner is doing," he told her matter-of-factly.

Her words shook her from her daze and she pulled her arm decisively out of his grasp.

"I'm not your partner anymore remember," she whispered.

She'd tried to keep the emotion from her voice but he picked up on it. She needed to get out of there and away from those hands and those penetrating eyes.

Somehow she managed to turn away from him and walk out of the bar without stumbling. She hit the cold air and headed towards the main road to hail a cab. Her heals echoed against the pavement and she kicked herself for not bothering with a jacket.

She made it two blocks when she registered the footsteps behind her and she should have known. If he followed her to D.C. then he'd follow her two blocks. She exhaled sharply at his continued intrusive behavior and decided she'd end this now.

She whipped around and he closed the few steps between them.

"Go home Elliot," she fumed.

"No." He didn't miss a beat.

He grasped her forearm and pulled her towards a side ally, she would have done more to resist him but he'd caught her off guard and her heals were throwing her balance.

He moved her up against the wall and the motion combined with the alcohol made her head spin. She felt the turn in his demeanor, he was pissed.

"Can you really blame me?" He threw the question at her and she had no idea what he was talking about.

When it was apparent she wasn't following he cleared it up.

"When my partner asks me to fuck her, it's kind of a deal breaker," he finished off angrily.

Her heart rate immediately ascended and she felt like she was going to loose her balance. Had he really just called her on that? She couldn't breathe, she just looked at him, a loss for words.

"You got nothing to say to that?" he pressed somewhat out of breath and just watched her squirm.

She broke the eye contact. What could she say? She tried to will her heart rate back down.

"Elliot," she started in disbelief attempting to steady herself against the wall. She tried to conjure up any possible excuse or reasoning she could think of but knew she had nothing.

"Things got out of hand," she admitted slowly.

He laughed then and rubbed a hand down his face. "Your damn right they did," he said. "Things have a habit of getting out of hand with you Olivia and I'm done watching you throw yourself under a bus." He stepped down then and began to walk away from her. Somehow she managed to find her voice.

"I did what I had to do Elliot," she said with force.

As soon as she said it she wished she hadn't because he stopped midstride and his anger hit her like a solid wall. He started to walk back to her rapidly closing the distance and her heart thumped wildly in her chest. A hand came up to rest against the wall beside her head trapping her. He moved in close.

"Bullshit," he seethed.

She could have let him go, she could have escaped this argument scot-free but she had to push it. Her back was up against the wall and he was caging her doing his best to intimidate. His eyes dipped to her lips and she got chills. A few heated moments passed as they continued down the column of her neck and over the top of her breasts.

"So what was the plan Liv, were you just going to go home with some guy tonight," he said slowly.

She'd picked up the judgment in his voice and suddenly it riled her. She narrowed her eyes.

"When you manage to keep that ring on your finger for more than 2 seconds you've earned the right to judge me."

She saw it cut deep and she almost felt guilty. She'd said it in an effort to retaliate but also in the hope that he'd explain it because he hadn't said shit to her for months. The apartment, the missing ring, the situation.

_A marriage can't outlast a partnership._

It would now appear he'd lost both.

He shook his head and laughed quietly in that smug, arrogant, son of a bitch way that drove her insane.

"At least I tried a chance at a life," he stabbed back defensively.

She took the insult but didn't let it stew.

"I'm perfectly happy with my life Elliot," she fired back

He scoffed at her statement and if he said 'bullshit' one more time she was going to slug him right then and there. A few beats passed. She was determined to hold his eye contact but he was looking at her with pity.

"So sacrificing your body and your life is fulfilling for you?" he almost whispered.

She moved then, she wasn't going to stand there and take this abuse a moment longer. He reached out and grabbed her upper arm and pushed her back against the wall.

"Stuckey, Bushido, Sin - Jesus Olivia how much further are you going to go?"

She couldn't believe he was so blatantly dredging up their past. She let him hold her against the wall for a few moments before she spoke.

"And what do those all have in common Elliot?" she rasped almost out of breath. "They all saved your god - damned - life," she yelled.

As soon as the words left her mouth everything went quiet. She had meant it in defense. She hadn't realized how exactly it would sound and immediately wished she could retract it. His hand that was still holding her against the wall loosened only slightly and he was staring at her with a look of disbelief as if it had only just registered for him.

Her statement might as well been an admission.

Seconds ticked over and she saw something flicker in his eyes that she did recognize and it made her nervous as hell. His eyes dipped to her lips again.

"Kiss me," he whispered.

Her breath caught and her mind spiraled, she was panicking. What the hell?

"Don't-" she started.

"Kiss me Liv," he repeated and leaned in dangerously close. "No cameras, no agenda, just your mouth on mine."

Her heart slammed into her chest and the nerves poured through her. When she didn't answer he lowered his mouth to hers and let his bottom lip drag across hers.

She closed her eyes.

"Don't do this," she whispered against him, she didn't have the self-control for this and her restraint was weakening by the minute.

She tried to pull herself out of his grasp then. She yanked her arm away but he only moved in closer. She fruitlessly pushed against the hard plains of his chest, his strength was no match for hers.

His hands circled her wrists that were resisting him and he pinned them gently shoulder height on the wall behind her. His entire body moved in, a leg between hers, his chest against her breasts and his lips dipped to her neck.

She made a small noise as his lips brushed the skin of her neck, goosebumps broke out over her body. His lips trailed up to the base of her ear and then he spoke.

"Lie to me Liv," he whispered and she held her breath. "Tell me you don't want this."

Her nipples were as hard as hell and she knew she'd have a slim chance hiding her bodies reaction against the soft cotton of his shirt. A big part of her wanted to tell him to go to hell, that he had no right to so blatantly man handle her like this but dear god that would mean he'd let her go. She was powerless to do anything other than bask in the feel of his body against hers and she felt pathetic at her lack of self-control. The leg between hers wedged in a little further causing her legs to spread further apart.

"Elliot-" She tried to shock him out of it.

"Say it Liv," he whispered, his mouth tracing her jaw line. "Tell me to let you go."

_Son of a bitch._

She felt the heat in her cheeks and between her legs and she could barely breathe at this point let alone speak. He was an asshole and he didn't deserve it so easy, he deserved a fight.

"Fuck you," she whispered and tried in vain to pull her wrists from his capture. Her wrist was still sensitive from the handcuffs but she'd never let it show.

He brushed his mouth over her lips again and without warning pushed his thigh up between her legs causing a wave of pleasure to spread through her. She made a noise, a vocal reaction that he responded to by brushing his mouth over lips again and this time he hovered.

"Open your mouth," he told her and her stomach dropped a mile. She was shaking, she had to be but was thankful he had her firmly against the wall.

His mouth closed over her bottom lip and her eyes slipped closed as he pulled it unforgivingly between his. She felt his tongue trail her lower lip but she kept her mouth closed, intent on making him work for it.

"Open your mouth," he repeated, this time his tone a lot thicker, almost warning her.

"No," she whispered, refusing him and her heart raced at what he'd do.

His lips twisted into an amused smile. When he rocked his lower half against her a moan escaped her and he wasted no time taking advantage of her open mouth. His lips crashed over hers and he forced his tongue into her mouth. He was solid, strength and hard against her and it made her nervous as hell but turned on as fuck. They were in an ally, a public ally, she didn't do this and more to the point _they_ didn't do this. But damn it she was powerless.

She decided she wouldn't encourage him, she wouldn't slide her tongue into his mouth to meet his or react to his touch. But she wasn't going to stop him either.

When she felt his hands slowly release her wrists a pang of disappointment hit. Maybe he was coming to his senses and realized just where they were and just what he was doing. She got her answer when used one free hand to hold her jaw line firmly as he continued to attack her mouth and the other was sliding down her collarbone. He'd let her hands go so he could touch her. He reached her breast and cupped it through her dress. She tried not to react when he thumbed her erect nipple through the thin material.

He was hard against her hip and she was trying to figure out if this was actually going to happen. If she'd _let _it happen, in some ally up against the wall. They haven't talked, they haven't fixed a damn thing between them and suddenly this was how he was going to deal with it.

His hand skimmed down the side of torso, over her hip and across her thigh running over her bare skin. He slipped it under her dress and his fingers curled around her upper thigh, he lifted it up parallel with the ground and rammed his erection between her legs. She moaned into his mouth at the contact that pressed against her core.

_Fuck._ He wasn't subtle, he was slowly rubbing his cock against her as he continued to attack her mouth.

His hand released her leg and before she knew it, he was under her dress, between her legs and cupping her against the satin of her panties. She gasped into his mouth at how forward he was being. He was drawing two fingers between her folds and she knew he'd be able to feel the dampness through the material. She was embarrassed to be enjoying the prick that he had become tonight and had it been anyone else she wouldn't have taken shit.

His lips released hers and he kissed down her jaw line until he reached her neck. He pressed his lips into a sensitive spot as he rubbed two fingers over her clit. She moaned louder than expected as it hadn't been muffled by his lips.

She was nervous was fuck, he was acting so brash, bold and unrelenting. A world away from the broken man that was flustered beneath her at Sin. She wondered how long he has wanted to do this to her, how many times he'd pictured taking her like this or if it was her performance at Sin that had set him off.

Without warning he slipped his hand inside her panties and she exhaled sharply as two fingers found the wetness between her folds. He moved her legs further apart with his knee and then without warning sank two fingers determinedly inside her. She made a sharp noise at the contact and her head lolled back against the wall as she stretched to accommodate him. She wanted to moan his name but didn't want to give him the satisfaction.

"Jesus Liv you're so.." Elliot mumbled into her neck, his words trailed off. She didn't know what he was referring too but whatever it was, he was pleased.

He kept a steady rhythm, pushing his hardness into her hip with each thrust and she thought about his cock. Fingering her in public was one thing but fucking her. She hadn't seen or heard anyone close by. Would it really be so bad?

Her hand rested on his bicep and her fingernails dug deeper with each thrust. His mouth returned to hers and he slid his tongue into her mouth as his hand rocked waves of pleasure through her.

She was close and she knew he could tell because her breathing was getting heavier. He pulled out all together and ran his wet fingers over her clit before plunging back side of her. She yelled into his mouth and suddenly he was yanking her panties down her thighs and reaching for his belt buckle.

Her heart thumped in her chest as her underwear hit the concrete and she stepped out of them. He pulled himself out of his pants, lifted her dress and grabbed her thighs moving between her. He looked at her with pure desire as he lifted her up the wall, holding her hips. Her heals slipped off, dropping to the floor as she tried to remember to breathe. He didn't ask if this was what she wanted, didn't enquire if she was ready just sank his cock into her in one deep thrust. She exhaled sharply as her body worked to accommodate him as he pinned her lower half against the wall.

"Fuck," he breathed into her ear as if that's the only way he could describe it. She agreed. She wrapped her arms around his neck and moved her legs further apart, hooking her ankles behind his legs, allowing him to sink in deeper.

His hands held her hips and he started the rhythm, gentle for the first few thrusts and then he picked up speed. She felt every inch of him slide into her and retract.

He had only just entered her but she could tell he was close. This was years of frustrating foreplay coming to the brink. Every argument, every fist clench, every curse word, every look he ever gave her and every touch.

She was still angry at him, for everything. Even for this, _especially_ for this but the pleasure that was exploding through her right now won over and right now she could care less. He was fucking her. That's all this was, a good hard fuck up against an ally wall. He was pissed at her, he was horny and he was fighting her with his dick. He'd done all but spin her around and fuck her from behind.

He shifted slightly so the angle meant he was rubbing against her clit when he entered her now and her fingernails dug into his neck. Her head crashed back against the wall and he used her open mouth to his advantage kissing her hard, wet and opened mouthed. He plunged his tongue in as he continued to slam her against the wall.

_Fuck you Elliot. _She wanted to say. _Fuck you for it all._

He bucked against her. Once, twice and it triggered her orgasm. Her walls clenched around him and he let go, spilling himself inside her. He stopped thrusting and just held her against the wall as they both rode out their orgasms. He was breathing heavily in her ear and felt his body react to the after effects of her orgasm as her walls continued to contract around him.

She could barely breathe, she was shaking from the intensity and took a good while to get her breathing and bearings under control. When his head dropped forward and into her neck she waited only moments before she tried to move out of his hold, unhooking her ankles and attempting to slide downward but he kept her against the wall. His hands still gripped her hips still supporting her weight as she was starting to register the ache.

She tried again this time with more vigor and managed to slip down the wall and he reluctantly pulled out of her. She grimaced at the sudden discomfort and wobbled a little as she planted her feet, unsteady. Without looking him in the eye she dipped down and scooped up her underwear and purse. As she pulled herself back up the wall she heard him zip up his pants.

She was sliding her feet back into her heals when he stepped forward to touch her but she dodged his advances, side stepping him. She looked at him for a few unyielding moments, just blinking at him, expressionless. When he didn't say anything to her she looked away uneasily and after a few moments she starting walking away from him towards the street.

"Olivia," he called out to her back and she heard the hurt and shock in his voice at her sudden 360. She didn't turn around so he came up behind her grasping her forearm gently.

She turned only slightly before looking him in the eye.

"Good night Elliot," she told him quietly and he just stared at her with a raw sense of anguish that almost killed her. She didn't wait around for a response, just pulled herself from his grasp and walked out into the night.


	5. Chapter 5

Apologies for the delay (again!) and thanks to those who are still sticking with me on this. For those asking Sin is my second SVU story – my first story Chutes & Ladders took over my world for a second there but I am back on board with Sin. Regardless I should probably post C&L on FF because you probably have no idea what I'm rambling about. Anyway as always thanks for your awesome reviews and support : )

**Chapter 5**

Elliot's hands were shaking.

What the hell just happened? One moment they were talking, or more to the point fighting_, _the next moment they were … he couldn't even say it.

He hadn't meant for this to happen. Not that like, not up against an alley wall like she was just a piece of ass. He had followed her here because he needed to talk to her. He wanted to know how she was feeling after the crash, after Porter's death, after her interview with the feds. He wanted to tell her how he couldn't bare the thought of losing her without her ever knowing just how he felt. Instead he just accused her of having no life, no soul and pushed himself onto her.

_No_, he didn't. She had wanted it. He'd seen it in her eyes, heard it in her voice and felt it between her legs. If she hadn't wanted him she would have had no trouble telling him to take a hike. _Wouldn't she? _

He felt like he was about to be sick.

He'd been chasing her for days and the frustration had been slowly mounting, she kept running and he'd kept chasing. He had been across the street from the coffee shop when she saw Porter, in the parking at the Brewhouse, parked across the street at Silverman's home and then followed her to her hotel car park. When she called him from her room he thought maybe she'd seen him but then he heard the pain in her voice.

_I don't want a new partner Elliot._

He knew how hard it must have been to make that phone call. He knew the strength it would have taken to take that step and he just obliterated it to hell.

_I requested the partner switch._

When she hung up on him he didn't call back and he wasn't planning on going to her because he was a gutless son of a bitch who couldn't bear to see the hurt in her eyes. When he saw Porter enter the hotel with intent masking his face that's when he finally stepped in. He knew something was wrong and he was in D.C. as her invisible coat of protection but when he got to her room it was too late. Again.

He had followed them on the highway at a certain distance in an effort to remain inconspicuous. It wasn't until they'd taken the exit to the gas station that he lost them. Then he got her second phone call and heard the gunshot, the glass, the struggle.

_Where are you?_

Just when he thought he'd lost them completely he saw them moving back onto the highway at an intense speed. When they clipped that first car he had been moments from ramming straight up the back of their vehicle but he managed to swerve, dodge their car and miss surrounding traffic. Then he looked on in his rear view mirror as the oncoming SUV headed straight towards them moments from smashing into them head on.

There was nothing he could do.

He'd grabbed her tonight out of sheer desperation. He has lost count of how many times he thought he'd be attending her funeral and he was done running. He needed her to just stop for one god damn minute so he'd dragged her into the alley, demanding answers.

That wasn't how it was supposed to go.

She deserved _so_ much more than that. It should have happened in a bed, in privacy, in warmth, in safety. It should have been gentle, she'd just been in a car crash for Christ sake. He should have explained the divorce papers, told her how he felt about her and woken up the next morning with her in his arms. But it just wasn't them.

He wondered if it could ever be.

He didn't know what he was supposed to do. If he went to her now she'd probably take out a restraining order. If he didn't go to her now she'd think that was all he wanted from her. The days would slowly decrease and suddenly she'd be back at work with a new partner and a new wall up between them. The months would drag on and they'd never speak of this again.

He drove by her apartment but when he saw her lights were off he drove home.

**::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**

She lay in the tub.

No soap, no bubbles just searing hot water.

Her body was aching but it was nothing compared to the ache inside her.

She took a deep breath and submerged herself in the water and everything went quiet. She heard distant pipes groaning and the small clink as her necklace pendants hit the porcelain.

She wanted to clear her mind, the hot water dulled her senses but it did nothing to dull her thoughts. She wished for a more substantial release but short from draining the sealed bottle of scotch on that sat high in her cupboard this would have to do.

Her wrist was stinging, her arm was aching and her ribs were sore. She wouldn't let her self think about the ache between her legs.

What the _hell_ had she done?

She hadn't cried or broken down because that would signify regret and she wasn't sure if she could regret something so damn explosive.

She came up for air and as her lungs filled her body rose slightly out of the water. She licked her lips and they were sensitive, raw almost from his relentless mouth. Her breasts peaked out of the searing hot water hitting the cool night air and her nipples immediately hardened. She clung to the sides of the tub as the water rippled across her body and she closed her eyes.

She was trying desperately to will the thoughts away, his hands between her legs, inside her panties, pulling them down her legs and unzipping his pants. Her legs parted just slightly under the water and she felt the hot water seep between her legs, soothing her ache.

She should be thinking about this, about him in this light, she should be angry at what she let happen tonight but her body was slowly betraying her. She was no stranger to rough sex, public sex, casual sex but this was Elliot. The whole thing was so wrong, so careless, so fucking stupid.

But damn had it felt good.

She let a hand move across her chest and over her breast and she just let it rest there. A few moments passed she let her fingers smooth lazily over her nipple. Then he was in the room, kneeling beside the bath and he was caressing her, teasing her, thumbing her nipple making her breath quicken and her legs part just slightly.

She opened her eyes and blinked against the beads of water that started to sting. Her hand moved up and rubbed over her neck. She couldn't do this, she couldn't lie here and picture his hands on her breast or between her legs or she'd die a slow and painful death.

She needed to forget it Elliot and the alley and the ever-growing need between her legs because it was over. It was one moment in 12 years where they'd given in, given up and _fucked_ up.

What the hell had she done?

**::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**

She hadn't left her house in 4 days.

She slept, she stared at the ceiling, she watched the TV on mute and when she ran out of sleeping pills she broke the seal and drank a third of the bottle of scotch.

She had 2 more days until she had to be back at work and she tried to imagine how she was supposed to handle it without him. They'd be a desk away but a world apart.

She wondered if they'd talk about it, if it would be acknowledged or if they'd both sweep it under the rug where it rightfully belonged. Would he be angry with her, upset with how she left things or would he be indifferent, content that he got it out of his system and now he could move on. Would he ever look at her the same again?

After another three swigs of the bottle of scotch her stomach turned and she vomited into the sink.

**::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**

He dreamt that she came to him.

He heard the knock on the door and when he pulled it open she was standing there in jeans, a tee-shirt and her token leather jacket. She had a look on her face like she wanted to kill him.

Instead of running her mouth, she brought it up against his and kissed him hard pushing him backward into his apartment and slamming the door shut. He tried to steady himself but she had the advantage catching him off guard and suddenly his back was making contact with the wall. He felt her teeth dig into his lower lip and he called out in surprize as she practically drew blood. She released his lip and pulled it between hers, softly soothing it with her tongue and he moaned into her mouth.

Her hands went straight for his belt and he let her open it, unbutton his pants and unzip him. She tugged them downward along with his briefs and he was already hard as if he had known she was coming. When she knelt down to remove his pants he realized she wasn't coming back up, her face was mere inches from his erect penis.

He told her to _stand up_.

She told him to _fuck off_.

Her hand was smoothing down the length of him before he could rebut and she grasped him at the base. He watched in awe as she lent in, her tongue circling his tip before she closed her mouth around him. His eyes slipped shut and his hands reached out to steady himself on the wall. When she took in the full length of him he hummed his response.

He was in her mouth, her goddamn mouth with those full lips sliding up his cock. He had to open his eyes. He looked down to see him disappearing into her mouth, one hand at the base of his cock, the other resting on his thigh.

He started subtly rocking his hips back and forth and he watched as she adapted to the new pace and met him head to head. He reached out and combed his fingers through her hair until he was holding her head in place and she instantly wacked him away.

He bit back a smile.

She was holding him by the thighs now, her fingernails biting into his skin with each drive and his head fell back against the wall. His breathing was heavy and he was moaning openly at the intense pleasure that was coursing through his groin. Her hand slid around to grasp him again and she pulled back tonguing his tip.

His hand found her shoulder. He wanted to tell her he was close, pull her off him but she was having none of it. She batted his hand away and moved her mouth down his length once more. The pleasure streaming through him right now was un-fucking-believable. He couldn't help but thrust into her wet, open mouth with more vigor and he felt her muffled vocal response vibrate down his length.

His hands were in her hair again, bunching her curls into fistfuls as she continued her assault on his cock. She let him hold her this time as she moved him in and out of her mouth. He felt her teeth lightly skim his shaft and his breath hitched. When she smoothed her tongue attempting to sooth the area he bucked into her and she closed her mouth around him. He drove into her one, twice, three times and then lost it, pouring himself into her.

She swallowed what he had to give and when he started to get his breathing under control he dropped his head to watch as she continued to lick him dry. When her almond eyes moved up and captured his she just stared at him, blinking at him, expressionless.

He woke up sweaty as fuck and sticky as hell.

**::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**

He sat at his desk and stared across at Fin who was now taking up the space where his partner used to sit.

He was on the phone, her phone, chasing a lead and Elliot chewed on his bottom lip.

Today was the day she was coming back to work and his hands were still shaking. That dream, that fucking dream had done nothing but rattle the hell out of him and he felt even more of a prick than he did before. He wasn't ready to see her again, not yet. Maybe he could just leave, take a personal day for the first time in 3 years.

When Fin hung up the phone his eyes darted straight to Elliot's.

"You wanna tell me what's so damn interesting?" He sounded a little pissed at the unwanted attention.

Elliot cleared his throat and looked away. "Anything?" he mumbled turning his attention back to the case.

"Another dead end," Fin grumbled before getting up and seizing his coffee mug.

Elliot gaze remained on her empty chair as Fin made his way over to the coffee pot.

"So what's this Detective Benson like?" He overheard Bennett say to Fin's back.

Detective Bennett just transferred from Brooklyn and Elliot had only said one word to him.

_Stabler._

Elliot watched as Fin attempted to respond but when he caught Elliot's eyes on them he nodded in his direction.

"You should be asking him."

Bennett looked over at Elliot and they made eye contact, he could sense the hesitation as Bennett approached. Elliot hadn't been the most welcoming and he was catching on quick. He took a couple of steps towards him and took a sip of his fresh coffee.

Elliot cleared his throat.

"She's the best," he said simply saving Bennett from having to ask.

Bennett nodded, seemingly pleased with Elliot's answer.

"Any words of wisdom?" He cocked an eyebrow in curiosity. He knew they used to be partners but had no idea why they weren't anymore.

Elliot fingered the pen in his hand and his eye line dropped down to Bennett's bear ring finger. A few beats passed and he could feel Fin's eyes on him when he said it.

"Don't scratch the surface."

**::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**

He was hanging up his phone when she walked in.

Before he could look away she had made eye contact with him for a split second before dropping it. Instead of stopping in front of his desk like she usually did she continued towards Fin's old desk. She dumped her coat over the back of the chair and Bennett looked up from his desk. She was pulling off her scarf when Bennett spoke.

"Detective Benson I presume?" he asked with a hint of intrigue, unsure if he had the right person. She nodded and when it was clear he wasn't mistaken he stood up and held out his hand.

"Detective Bennett, your new partner."

Elliot stilled at the words and he watched as she wavered for a short moment. Then she took his hand and with a smile she reserved for strangers she shook it with grace.

"Nice to meet you Bennett."

She sat down and he watched out of the corner of his eye as she took in the contents of her desk. It had all been moved, the pictures, her coffee mug, the files and he wondered if it bothered her that she was the one who had to move desks.

Fin had come back into the bullpen and spotted her inspecting her top draw.

"Welcome back Liv." He gave her a compassionate smile and she looked up as he took a seat at her old desk.

"Thanks," she said quietly studying how Fin looked in her place. Then her eyes moved the short distance to Elliot's and she just stared at him with an expression he couldn't place. Her lips parted as if she were about to say something to him but Bennett cut her off.

"Liv?"

Olivia's eyes whipped to his in surprise and Elliot fists clenched beneath his desk. He would need to serve years beside her before he had earned the right to use that name.

"As in.. Livia?" Bennett asked curiously clearing up the question.

"Olivia," she corrected with a smile.

Bennett looked surprized. "Nice, we have the same initials then."

Olivia scratched her cheek and waited for him to answer the lingering question.

"Owen," he said with a smile. "Owen Bennett."

Elliot wanted to punch something.

**::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**

"Can I talk to you a sec?"

Elliot looked up and Olivia's brown eyes were watching him as he flicked through the files on his desk.

His mouth opened in surprise and his heart rate started to ascend at how forth coming she was. It had been 6 days since that night and neither of them had made any attempt to contact the other. She never wanted to talk, especially to him and particularly now after all things considered.

He let out the breath he was holding and stood up, nodding in compliance trying not to act like a jackass. Bennett was in Cragen's office and Fin was on the phone chasing yet another lead so he assumed Olivia had chosen this moment intentionally. He followed her a body length behind as she made her way to the locker room.

She was a different person at work and always had been. He was no stranger to glimpses of 'off the clock' Olivia. In her pajamas with bed head, getting dressed for a date at the precinct or coming in on Sunday in her casual can't-be-fucked hoddie and ponytail. He'd seen it all but there was just something about her in those jeans, a modest sweater with her badge and gun clipped to her hip that made her seem off limits. She carried herself differently as if she sported a big neon sign flashing '_fuck with me and pay'. _Maybe that's how he'd managed to keep his hands off her all these years.

She held the door open and he walked through the threshold. He stepped a good distance into the room before he heard her click the door shut behind them. When he turned around he was rubbing his neck somewhat awkwardly. The tension was high, almost as if he'd been called into the principles office. He had no idea what to expect from her.

When she didn't say anything and was barely looking at him he felt a pang of guilt flood through his body. He should be the one that started this, apologized and made things right.

"Liv I-"

"Don't," she cut him off, her tone wasn't angry but it wasn't particularly pleasant either. "I don't want to talk about it, I just want to make sure we're on the same page."

The polite easy going Olivia from the bullpen had suddenly vanished now that they were alone. He considered her statement but couldn't seem to comprehend an answer. He had no idea what page she was referring to or what page they should be on.

He realized in that moment he still hadn't hugged her, after everything they'd been through since Sin he hadn't hugged her, he'd fucked her, but he hadn't hugged her. He was a prick.

When it was clear he had no idea how to answer her and wasn't going to any time soon she folded her arms in front of her in what he assumed was disappointment and began to speak.

"I wasn't myself the other night," she confirmed in a low voice and his eyebrows immediately furrowed in confusion. What was she doing?

"I wasn't in a good place after…" her words drifted off and she looked away. "After everything."

Her words ripped into him and he found it hard to breathe. Was she trying to tell him that _she'd_ acted out of turn and was assuming part or all the blame? He was the one who pushed her, she had been trying to walk away from him, away from them but he made her crack. He'd taken advantage of her when she was most vulnerable and he loathed himself for it. Now here she was wringing out the honesty, the regret, the pain right before his eyes.

He ached to reach out and reassure her with a touch, tell her it was going to be ok but he couldn't because even he didn't know if it would be. Six days ago he would have been able to comfort her with his words, his hands, a look, now he felt like standing there and not talking was his only option. She looked uncomfortable as if she were trying to remain neutral but he could see the makings of suppressed emotion threatening to break through.

"I know we're not partners Elliot but we still have to work together," her eyes had somehow made their way back to his. "We can still do that right?" Her voice sounded so small and he sensed the fear in her words at the thought that a desk between them might not be enough.

He nodded because he needed to get that look of anguish off her face and despite the on flood of things he wanted to say to her, he had no words to give her in that moment. He could tell she wasn't exactly convinced with his answer but at that point she looked more desperate to end this conversation that he did.

"Good," she said mostly to herself and rocked back on her feet once before she turned and headed for the door.

**::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**

"Tell me about Silverman," Huang's calm voice spoke.

The memory made Olivia exhale and she was slightly caught off guard. She clasped her hands in front of her, fingers intertwining as she examined her short fingernails.

"What do you want to know?" She couldn't hide the reservation in her voice because she didn't want to be here. She didn't need to be here. Six long days in her apartment was more than enough time to mull over her recent past but Cragen made it clear that if she didn't give up an hour of her time today he'd have her badge and her gun. Permanently.

She could only avoid this for so long.

"What's the first thing that comes to mind when you think about him?" Huang continued and she wondered why he was bringing Silverman up when he had so much more on her.

She started to fidget, her thumbs dancing over one another.

"I thought you were going to ask me about the crash?" she queried restlessly. "About Porter?" she prodded. She wanted to get to the crux of it because tippy toeing around the subject would only land her an extended session.

"You've been in life threatening situations before," Huang confirmed as if it wasn't particularly noteworthy. "And from what I gather you seem indifferent whenever I mention Agent Porter's name," he said with a head tilt as if waiting for her confirmation.

As much as she hated to admit it Huang was right. The crash didn't keep her up at night, Porter's death didn't enter her subconscious as much as she'd expected he would. It was Silverman that continued to resonate with her well after the ordeal.

But it didn't mean she wanted to talk about him.

"I don't blame myself for Porter's death," she started because she wanted to vocalize it more than anything. "He was in over his head."

It was true, whatever his intensions were they weren't for her sake, she had been caught up in the thick of it and she had no doubt he'd sell her down the river if it meant saving his ass. Her interview with the feds had only confirmed his actions were corrupt and she'd made peace with that. She'd never intentionally wish harm on Porter but there was no point mulling over a man who bent the rules so hard they broke. He'd made his own bed. The one thing she did yearn for however was closure, the why's and the how's behind Porters actions but she'd learnt that some answers are better left unfound.

"You had a history, if not guilt, then surely you feel something," Huang began.

She furrowed her eyebrows and she almost felt shameful for not feeling that standard sense of empathy one has from death. She just couldn't get past the fact that any history they had was cancelled out by the deceit.

_Our feelings don't matter._

She opened her mouth to respond and then closed it again knowing admitting these thoughts to him would only dig a deeper hole. When it was clear she wasn't going to answer Huang moved on.

"What about Silverman?" he asked and she clenched her hands together, suddenly wishing they were back on Porter.

"Tell me how you feel about his death?"

She closed her eyes. She didn't know, it wasn't guilt, she knew that much because whether or not she had shown up that night he still wouldn't have gotten his partner back. He was set in his way and wouldn't let her or anyone else help. She kept thinking if they'd just saved the right wagon he'd be tucked up in bed with his partner right now but she had been saved, and for what? A quick fuck up against an alley wall.

She rubbed a hand over her face and the guilt singed it's way through her body, she didn't feel worthy and she wondered if she ever would.

_Tell your partner how you feel. _

She could tell Huang was waiting for her response and it came out in a strained voice.

"I didn't know Silverman." She'd said the words but she couldn't shake the feeling that she felt like she did.

"You don't need to be close to someone to be affected by their death," Huang told her knowingly. "Why do you think it bothers you so much?" he pushed realizing he had struck a bigger nerve than anticipated.

"I don't know," the honesty escaped her in a breath. She really didn't.

Huang considered her for a while as if he were debating how he'd shift the questioning in an effort to prod deeper.

"Describe him to me," Huang said quietly and when she looked up her face fell flat.

Her eyes moved to the clock behind Huang's head and she realized they only had 10 minutes left. Suddenly she was pissed off that they were wasting time because there was no way she was coming back for round two. She wished he would just drop Silverman because discussing the death of federal agent she hadn't even known a week wasn't going to get them anywhere. She could see Huang was reading her like a book and he wasn't going to give up that easy.

"What was he like?" he pressed.

She ran her hands down her thighs a couple of times before she exhaled sharply giving in.

"He put everything on the line for his job, or more to the point his partner, he crossed the line and did things he shouldn't be proud of but he didn't see it that way because he was too blinded by the bigger picture. He was hotheaded, passionate, aggressive, manipulative when he had to be but deep down his intensions were pure and selfless. He gave up his life, his family, all for the job and in the end none of it mattered because he lost his partner and he lost himself."

She had said it in a calm and rational matter as if she had been reciting from an encyclopedia but as the words sunk in her eyes couldn't help but water slightly. She swallowed the lump forming in her throat.

Huang was staring at her with intensity, he didn't look surprised or shocked at the amount of detail she'd just provided on a complete stranger but there was something behind that look that made her throat catch.

"I really don't see what this has to do with anything," she said tiredly wanting nothing more than for her 10 minutes to be over.

She heard the distant ticking of the clock behind her before Huang finally lent forward and spoke as evenly as he could muster.

"You just described your partner."

**::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**

"One black coffee, no sugar, no creamer, no taste." Bennett placed the takeaway coffee cup in front of Olivia and her eyes rose up to his in surprise.

She hadn't asked for a coffee, she didn't usually drink takeaway coffee unless they were on the road, the coffee pot in the corner would always suffice but she could see Bennett was trying. She had been there since 7am that morning and it was now bordering on 7pm.

She fingered the cup in front of her.

"Thanks." She gave him a small smile and watched as he took a sip from his own cup.

"I don't know how you drink that stuff straight, tastes like charred bark," he shook his head at her.

She smiled at his attempt at humor.

"You get used to it." She liked the burn, the bitterness and the caffeine hit without the sugar rush because it never lasted long enough.

She pulled the lid off the cup and blew on the contents once before taking a quick scull, the lid only prolonged the inevitable. She couldn't be taking dainty sips all evening or she'd be here all night. Two weeks off work was a considerable set back and she wondered if she'd get to see daylight this month.

Fin and Elliot had been out since 3ish chasing a lead and she hadn't seen or heard from them since. She was thankful for that because ever since she'd returned Elliot had become a distraction to her, she was constantly aware of his presence and it was off-putting.

"So you and Stabler used to be partners?" Bennett asked her between sips as if he had been reading her mind.

She looked up from her file and furrowed her eyebrows. It was common knowledge that they used to be partners so she was puzzled as to why he was stating the obvious.

"What happened?" he asked genuinely curious and she stifled a sigh, she didn't have time for this nor did she feel the need to discuss this with her partner of 3 days.

"12 years," she said slowly in a slightly strained voice. "It was time for a change."

His eyes narrowed in consideration as if he were debating whether or not he was buying it.

"So there wasn't one case that broke the camels back?"

_Sin._

She tried not to glare.

"No," she expelled in a breath and felt a certain pang of guilt from the lie. Her eyes dipped straight back down to her file hoping he would get the hint and drop it.

"That's usually how it happens, one case," Bennett continued to ramble as if her disposition wasn't warning enough. "So you both just decided to call it time?"

She sighed and her elbow hit the desk a little too hard.

"Look Bennett, I've got a lot to get through tonight so if you don't mind." She had tried not to sound like a bitch but her frustration was mounting.

Bennett scratched his jaw. "I'm sorry," he raised his hands in a polite surrender and she almost felt guilty.

A few moments passed and he cleared his throat.

"I've got to get going anyway, tickets to the theatre," he explained. "So I'll leave you to it."

She nodded and was quietly grateful she'd have the place to herself so she could knock the paperwork on its head. Bennett began collecting his things and stood up.

"You sure you don't want a hand?" Bennett offered for the third time that day.

"I'm good," she replied without looking up. "It's all before your time so you're off the hook, enjoy it while it lasts."

"Will do," he said appreciatively. "Don't stay too late."

He walked passed her desk and her eyes didn't leave the page when she spoke.

"Thanks for the coffee."

**::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**

It had to be at least 3 hours later and her back was aching, the coffee was now stone cold and she realized she hadn't been to the bathroom since lunchtime. She had put quite the dent in her paperwork but was coming to the realization that she wouldn't get through it all tonight and she'd be having a few more late nights this week. Bennett had been the last person to leave and the precinct had been deathly silent since.

She dropped her pen and lifted her arms in a prolonged stretch until she felt her back crack. She then dropped her head in her hands in an effort to will herself to wake up and summon just a little more energy to keep going. As she did her best to stifle a yawn she heard footsteps approaching behind her and she turned her head slightly and saw him. Elliot walking through the dark corridors into the precinct and for a moment she thought she was dreaming. Surprise lined her features as her gaze dropped down to her watch.

_10:10pm_

He looked just as taken aback by her presence.

"I didn't think anyone would be here," he said to her quietly as he made his way to his desk. He almost seemed disappointed that wasn't he case.

"A two week paperwork backlog," she explained in a less than ecstatic tone.

He nodded as he pulled open his top draw and started furrowing for something, she wanted to ask what he was doing back but she left it.

A few moments passed and he had found what he was looking for, shoved it into his pocket and walked over to her desk. He didn't continue past like she expected he would and stopped just short of her desk.

She did a double take and looked up at him somewhat questioningly.

His eyes had dropped down to the out of place takeaway coffee cup and he reached out turning it slightly to catch the name scribbled in marker.

_Owen_

He scratched his cheek and his eyes dropped to hers.

"Lets get a drink," he said quietly, his voice almost cracking.

Her eyebrows rose in surprise. "Elliot, I've been doing paperwork since 7am."

"Exactly," he responded and when she didn't answer he shifted a little on his feet looking somewhat uncomfortable at her refusal.

"It will all still be there tomorrow," he tried.

"Exactly," she said with sarcasm, mimicking him from before.

He just stared at her and she looked away, rubbing the back of her neck, wondering why he was pushing this so hard.

"Please Liv, one drink," he had dropped the alpha tone for the moment and his voice now carried a seriousness about it. She heard it, it wasn't about a drink or her company or a daily vent. It was about them, the inevitable conversation they'd both put off for so long.

She didn't want to do this tonight but there was something about his tone and the way he was watching her that made her nod in compliance.

"Ok," she exhaled and as she stood up she grasped the coffee cup and tossed it into the bin.

**::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**

They road in silence and it was nothing new for them. She wondered if this was what their drink was going to be like.

She was getting sleepy and she let herself settle back into the seat of his car as he drove through the busy streets of Manhattan. The flood of people on the streets and the honking cars reminded her that any place they choose to go to on a Thursday night would be just as bustling.

She didn't want bustling.

When they pulled up to a set of lights she spoke.

"Can you just take me to my place?" she said sleepily closing her eyes, she didn't even have the energy to include a please.

She felt the tension radiating from him immediately without having to open her eyes, he'd be clicking his jaw and grasping the steering wheel right now and doing his best to bite his tongue. She let the tension simmer for a moment longer before she put him out of his misery.

"I have beer," she said quietly explaining that she wasn't backing out on their drink, just the venue. The tension started to dissipate.

He parked outside her building and followed her up. She could sense his uncertainty at going to her place over a crowded bar and noticed he was keeping his distance from her. She tossed her keys messily on the bench and motioned to the fridge.

"Help yourself," she said neutrally as she made her way towards the bedroom pulling off her badge and releasing her weapon. She tossed the contents into her top draw and headed for the bathroom.

She realized she still hadn't been since lunchtime. She took her time, splashed some water on her face and looked at herself in the mirror for a quiet moment before she walked back into the living room.

He was sitting on her couch with an opened beer in his fist and another set on the coffee table waiting for her. She hesitated on her feet just momentarily before she took the space next to him and reached out for her beer.

"Thanks," she said softly.

She took a draw and despite not particularly craving alcohol as soon as it hit her lips it was suddenly very welcome.

"How's your new partner?" he started and she saw him picking at the corner of the label on his beer already.

_Not you. _She thought, but wouldn't say.

"He's fine," she sat forward on the couch, her forearms resting on her upper thighs, clasping the beer between her hands.

"He's buying you coffee already," he noted and she wondered if that was jealousy she'd registered in his words or just a statement of fact.

She tried to divert the tension.

"Fin hasn't done a coffee run for you yet?" she tried not to let the smile hit her words. The thought of Fin and Elliot performing small niceties for each other just seemed out of place.

Elliot didn't answer so she drew the bottle back up to her lips and counted the moments of silence that ticked between them.

_One, two, three. _

_Twenty eight._

It was her turn to pick at her label.

"What do you want to talk about El?" she said softly, not knowing how much more of this excruciating silence she could bear. The beer was making her sleepy.

She could tell her frank question had made him uneasy but she was losing her patience, he wanted this drink, he wanted this talk and she wanted sleep.

He put his beer down on the coffee table and mirrored her stance, hands clasped, forearms resting on his upper thighs and his head slightly bowed.

The moments of silence only increased and she was now concentrating on the slight rise and fall of his breathing. She felt badly then, he was struggling with this and she tried to think of something she could say to alleviate the tension. But she had nothing.

She was watching the side of his face when he dropped his head in his hands and she could do nothing but watch as he tried not to break in front of her.

"I'm so sorry," he mumbled the words against his palms and it hit her hard, the apology, the regret, the pain.

She put her beer bottle down on the coffee table and her fingers itched to reach out and touch him, reassure him with her hands but she remained still.

"Don't," she whispered and she rubbed her hands up and down her thighs just so she wouldn't touch him.

"You must hate me." She heard the crack of emotion in his voice and she lost her internal struggle and reached out, circling her hand around his wrist.

"Elliot," her voice was firm. "Stop."

She tried to pull him then, his hand away from his face but he wasn't budging so she eased up and just let it rest there.

"I fucked up," he said through gritted teeth still muffled by his palms and her heart sunk. He was taking responsibility for it and it killed her. She needed to defuse the situation tell him that she could have stopped him, that it takes two to tango, that she wanted it just as badly as he did but she couldn't get her voice to work. Instead she just let her thumb slowly smooth over the skin of his wrist running back and forth over his pulse point.

"It shouldn't have happened," he expelled into his hands and she tried to ignore the pang of hurt from the regret he'd just expressed.

"That way."

Her thumb stilled against his skin and her heart began thumping in her chest. After a few agonizing seconds she pulled her hand off him completely and clasped them in front of her.

She could see in her peripheral vision that he was moving his face out of his hands and rubbing it once over before he looked over at her. She couldn't look at him, she just couldn't, she kept her eyes trained on her clasped hands. She could tell he was after confirmation, agreement, something but she was panicking.

"Look," she started and even she couldn't hide the tremble from her own voice. "After everything," she continued.

_Sin, the partner switch, Silverman, Porter, the crash, the head injury, his bare ring finger._

"We both weren't thinking clearly," she whispered and without thinking her eye line fell to his left hand that was now resting on his thigh and lingered for a good moment. She saw him drop his focus to where she was looking and his hand wavered underneath her gaze.

"Seven months," he told her quietly and her eyes moved back to his considering his comment before she narrowed them slightly. She knew what he was doing and suddenly she didn't want to hear it, because then it would be real and not just a fantasy in her mind.

"I signed the papers-"

"What are you doing?" she cut him off suddenly and he stopped mid sentence taken aback. "Are you trying to justify it Elliot because it's not helping," she stood up then and walked towards the kitchen, all of a sudden her exhaustion had dissipated and she was wide-awake. It wasn't long before he followed her towards the kitchen and stood at the entrance.

"Olivia," his tone was slowly slipping from a state of upset to a stifled anger. "I'm trying to be honest."

She lost her cool.

"Well you know what I don't want to hear it, I don't want to hear how I was some post divorce conquest that you finally got out of your system-"

"Fuck Olivia, you really think you were some kind of rebound?" he stepped forward and he looked pissed off now.

"You said it yourself, it shouldn't have happened." She almost choked on the words.

"That way!" he reminded her in a yell.

The silence ticked over before she spoke.

"No," she corrected, thinking it through in her head. "You had it right the first time."

His eyes darted between hers and he considered her statement for a good moment. She watched as he pulled his lower lip between his before releasing it.

"Then you should have stopped me," he said through gritted teeth and she was furious that he was now trying to lay the blame on her.

The words ticked over in her head and dear god she knew she shouldn't say them but if she didn't go with anger right now she was going to break down in front of him.

"Well you didn't really give me a chance to, did you?" she stabbed back and immediately she knew she'd gone too far because his face had morphed into a state of pure distress.

What the hell was she doing? She was hurt and she was grasping at straws and now he looked completely devastated.

"I'm sorry," she said stepping forward before he had time to assess what she'd just implied. "That was… I could have stopped you," she clarified and she closed her eyes against the strain of it all. "But I didn't." She let the silent admission hang between them and he just watched her with an unreadable expression.

"You're not the only one who fucked up," she whispered drawing in a deep breath.

The silence was deafening and she was praying he still wasn't lingering on what she'd accused him of. He was chewing on his lower lip and she was just waiting for him to walk away now because this was all getting too much.

He took a step forward, one hand was clutching the counter for stability and he looked as if he were fighting a wild debate in his mind. When his gaze dropped from hers she knew he'd settled on a direction.

"I'm gonna go," he said quietly.

"Don't," she'd said it before she could stop herself and his eyes flicked quickly back to hers. She hated how needy she had sounded, she'd just let loose on him and now she was begging him to stay. Her eye line dropped to the tiles because she couldn't bare his penetrating gaze, she should have just let him go.

With her train of focus still on the tiles beneath their feet her breath caught when he grasped her upper arm and pulled her into an unexpected hug. His arms wrapped around her, one holding her between her shoulder blades, the other on her lower back and she let herself melt into the heat and comfort of his body. She closed her eyes against him, the embrace suddenly felt long overdue and she could tell he needed this just as much as she did. His cheek warmed hers and her arms had moved around to encircle his neck, his chest was pushing up against her breasts and she was trying to steady her breathing.

He'd hugged her before but this felt poles apart, there was no grace period or time limit they had to respect. There was not a soul around and it was up to them how long they'd let it last.

His hand slipped a little on her lower back and she felt his fingers brush the small strip of exposed skin where her sweater had ridden up and she held her breath. He didn't retract his hand but he didn't caress her either. She tried to commit the feel of his body and his warmth to her memory because at any moment this was going to end. He must have sensed her hesitation because his lips dipped suddenly into the crevice of her neck and she shivered against him. She could now feel his warm breath against her neck and it was making her dizzy. When he let his lips drag across the smooth column her lips parted and she tried to stay grounded on her feet.

"Liv," he whispered against her neck and her mouth was so dry she couldn't fathom forming words if she tried. She waited, her heartbeat slamming against his in anticipation of his next words.

"Tell me what to do," he whispered against her and she held her breath. He was asking her to decide this for them but it was all too raw, too complicated, too messy.

_Go._

She didn't speak, she couldn't move and so she just stood there and let him continue to hold her. His fingers started to lightly trail across the bare skin of her lower back and she felt the spread of goosebumps ignite across her skin. She was now painfully aware of her hip that was pressing into him, against him, between his legs.

_Stay._

They were almost swaying now on their feet both feeling the ache of being up right in that moment. She wanted to tell him to stay, to take her to her bedroom, strip off their clothes and lie with her, all night.

_It shouldn't have happened that way._

She was desperate to know how it should have happened.

But she felt it, his ache, his guilt, the resistance and the unrefined way they were clumsily trying to right this moment. She knew he wouldn't make the same mistake twice and she could hardly be angry at him for it.

His mouth made it's way up her neck until his lips nipped the base of her ear and she wanted to cry right then and there because she wasn't strong enough for this.

"I don't want to go," he whispered against her and it was barely audible but she knew by his tone of voice that he was leaving her tonight and that it was taking everything in him to do so.

She wanted him to hold just a little longer but it wouldn't be fair on either of them, he needed to walk away now or they'd both lose this internal struggle.

She started to move then, pull her arms from around his neck and move out of the embrace she'd become so accustomed to. She let her hands lightly dance over his shoulders and down his chest a little longer that she should have.

She wasn't looking him in his eyes because she knew if she did, she'd surrender to him once more and they'd only wake up to unanswered resolutions. He was looking at her bowed head and he took a half step backwards to create some distance between them. She could feel his hesitation and his restraint slowly faltering and he needed to leave now.

"Go El," she whispered hoarsely and she was surprised she managed to get the words out.

She hadn't sounded angry, upset or disappointed.

A few moments ticked by and he still wasn't moving almost as if he was waiting for her eye contact so he could be sure he was doing the right thing. Knowing he wouldn't leave until she did so she slowly lifted her eyes up and they locked with his.

She wanted to tell him that it was ok, that they'd figure this out, just not tonight but she didn't have to because he was reading it in her eyes.

He stepped forward and for a moment she thought he was going to cave but as his hand reached out and grasped her cheeks, pulling her forward and pressing his lips against her forehead she expelled the breath she was holding into his neck.

"Good night Liv," he whispered against her forehead and then he was gone.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

Ok so huge apology for the delay – I am usually quick to update as I know how annoying it can be when to wait so long you forget what you're even reading but I guess I kind of dropped the ball on Sin there. Thanks again for all the kind words - you're all amazing. Thank you also to beta LeMiSo who has generously offered up her time to help with my tendency to misspell and become grammatically challenged at times!

**Chapter 6**

Day two of paperwork.

Today however was bearable because as difficult as last night had been, things with Elliot felt marginally on their way to rebuilding.

Bennett was in before she arrived and she tried not to take it as the new boy sucking up. He had given her a wide smile, her morning coffee, and a 40 minute recap on the Broadway production he'd seen last night. Having lived in Brooklyn most of his life it was apparently quite the novelty having Times Square just a stone's throw away.

She couldn't remember the last time she had been to the theatre.

Elliot had come in on the tail end of the production recap and tried to hide his amusement, he cocked an eyebrow at her and she bit hard into her lip so she wouldn't crack a smile in front of Bennett.

Elliot knew she hated small talk - in time Bennett would learn this.

By lunchtime, Bennett had stepped out and she felt Elliot's not so subtle gaze on her. She tried not to let it distract her and continued on with her paperwork. When she didn't give into his obvious attempt at capturing her attention, he stood up and walked over to her desk and stopped just short of her.

"Thursday night," he said softly before she even looked up. "Dinner?" He gave her the loaded question. Her eyes moved up to his then and she bit back the obvious reply.

_You asking me on a date Stabler?_

Instead she kept it casual trying desperately to swallow the lump in her throat.

"Sure," she replied nonchalantly as if he'd just offered her a piece of gum.

A wave of relief washed over his face and she wondered if he had really expected her to refuse. He stood there for just a moment longer before he nodded, the makings of a smile tugging at his lips.

"Then it's a date."

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She changed at the office.

A fitted navy blue corporate style dress with a slightly generous neckline.

The kind of dress that would be tasteful on most but her ample cleavage and curvaceous backside ramped it up few notches. She'd worn it once before, months ago when she had been getting ready at the precinct and noticed Elliot's severe discomfort at having to hold his gaze from falling south.

She couldn't resist wearing it tonight.

When she walked back to her desk intent on collecting her things, Elliot managed to keep his eyes on her face but Bennett's attempt was dismal.

"Wow." Bennett's jaw practically dropped and she exhaled at his lack of decorum.

Fin looked over at Bennett's appraisal and smiled. "Hot date Liv?" he asked with a chuckle.

Her eyes inadvertently flicked to Elliot's before she answered.

"He's not bad," she responded, mulling over her response. "I guess he'd be about a 6."

She watched the muscles in Elliot's jaw tighten as he managed to bite back a response.

"Well you're a definite 10 in that dress," Bennett assured her.

It hit her then that Bennett reminded her of a combination of Brian Cassidy and Dale Stuckey. Not the most pleasant amalgamation.

She grabbed her purse and her phone from her desk and her eyes quickly darted to Elliot before she looked away.

"See you tomorrow," she said collectively to all and headed for the door.

They had arranged to travel separately to the restaurant in the city and she had nearly made it out of hearing distance when the door to Cragen's office burst open.

"Liv wait," he called out. "We got another body, an emergency press conference is about to go live and the tip line is opening any minute on the Moore case. I need all hands on deck; the phones will be ringing off the hook."

She moved back to her desk without question and dropped her purse on the desk turning her computer back on and reaching for a pen and paper.

Elliot's phone rang suddenly followed by Bennett's. They both answered the calls and Olivia felt Fin's eyes on her.

"Aren't you going to call your date?" he asked her from across the way and she picked up on the skepticism in his voice. She looked over at him, her mouth opening slightly at her attempt at a response and she saw the look in Fin's eyes.

He knew.

She grabbed up her phone regardless and promptly excused herself making her way towards the locker room. She quickly typed the message.

_Rain check_

She ran a hand through her hair and tried not to mull on the fact that this was the first time she'd actually cared that her job got in the way of her attempt at a life.

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The phone calls started to taper down around 10pm, it was now 2-3 per hour as opposed to 2-3 per minute and they were waiting for Cragen to call it. The Chinese had finally arrived and Fin was dishing out their orders.

Olivia ordered the chicken, Elliot the beef and halfway through their meals he walked over and placed his takeaway container on her desk picking up hers.

"Enjoying dinner?" he looked down at her with a purposeful smile, sarcasm evident.

She sat back in her chair and rubbed the back of her neck, kneading the ache. Bennett was taking a much needed bathroom break and Fin was on a call.

"It's phenomenal," she matched his sarcasm and picked up his container of beef and scooped some up with her chopsticks.

"When Cragen throws in the towel," he began between mouthfuls, covering his mouth when he spoke. "I'll drive you home."

She twirled the noodles around her chopsticks and nodded somewhat pensively. She could see he was reading it in her eyes, this wasn't exactly how they'd imagined tonight would go. He gave her a sympathetic smile before he took her chicken back to his desk.

When Fin hung up his phone call Elliot looked over at him. "Anything?"

He shook his head and tossed him one of the fortune cookies sitting on his desk. Olivia dropped her chopsticks just in time to catch hers as he flung it towards her. She never could wait until the end of the meal, just unwrapped it and snapped it in half. She munched on half the cookie as she slid the small piece of paper out of the other.

_Patience is a virtue._

Her face broke into a hearty smile as she tossed it quickly into the bin hoping no one caught the amusement evident on her face.

Her eyes wandered to Elliot to find him staring at her as he cracked his cookie between his teeth. She jumped as her phone lit up next to her and there was a text message from Elliot.

_Difficult situations inspire ingenious solutions._

She snorted before she could help herself and Fin looked over at her curiously before she brushed him off and went back to her dinner.

40 minutes later Cragen called it a night.

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They hit the 3rd red light when Elliot broke the silence.

"So you going to tell me what it said?" he asked curiously.

It took her a small moment to realize what he was referring too and she shook her head biting back her smile. "I don't remember."

He chuckled. "Liar."

He hadn't bought it but he was letting her off the hook for the time being.

When they came to a stop in front of the 4th red light he exhaled sharply into the car and let his hand fall down to the hand break between them, just resting there.

"So you think I'm a 6 huh?" he said with a hint of offence.

She smiled at the thought that he had been mulling on _that_ all night. "Just trying to throw them off the scent," she said as the light flicked green.

He chuckled. "Well you might have to flirt with Fin a little tomorrow because it would seem that he is onto us," Elliot confirmed.

She shifted a little in her seat. "I wasn't flirting with you," she tried not to sound defensive and after a few moments of uncomfortable silence she broke the tension. "You'll know when I'm flirting with you."

Elliot cleared his throat.

"That a promise?"

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He pulled up in front of her stoop and turned off the engine and she looked across at him unable to hide the surprise from what that had insinuated.

"Don't get any ideas Benson, I'm just walking you to your door," he said unclipping his seatbelt and opening the car door.

She swallowed the disappointment and unclipped her own belt exiting the car. She still had her dress and heels on and had it not been for the incessant phone calls she would have changed at the precinct.

As he followed her up the stairs she felt his eyes on her the entire way. She'd almost wished he'd gone up first so she'd be the one with the complementary view. As they reached her front door she paused, not hunting for her keys right away and he just watched her waiting for her to break the silence.

"Well thanks for a great night," she said sarcastically raking a hand through her hair somewhat nervously.

He smiled. "Yeah we'll have to do it again sometime," he played along.

A few moments of tension filled silence weaved between them and he looked as if he was about to walk away.

"I have beer," she said a little too quickly. "I mean if you want... you can come in for one?"

He laughed then a little too loudly and took a step towards her. "Is this you flirting Liv because you suck at it?" he whispered.

She didn't have time for a comeback or any attempt at a response because his hand had come up seizing her cheek bringing her mouth up to his. He kissed her gently, pressing his lips against hers for a few beats before he parted them with his, bringing her lower lip between his and gently sucking. Her eyes drifted to a close as he raked his other hand through her hair and opened her mouth with his, sliding his tongue into her mouth and dragging it lightly across hers. When she slid an arm around his neck intending on deepening the kiss he pulled his lips away and looked into her questioning eyes.

"Come in El," she said softly before he had the chance to refuse.

He broke the eye contact and swiped his thumb softly against her cheek sending chills throughout her body. He looked as if he were contemplating her offer and mulling over his response when finally she saw his lips turn upward into a small smile.

"Patience is a virtue," he told her softly.

The son of a bitch must have checked her bin.

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The next three days were bedlam.

Any memory of their smiling filled fortune cookie evening was now just a distant memory.

A third child had been taken by Hank Moore and this time they managed to make it to her before she ended up in a body bag. Olivia was silently coaxing her with her actions from the side of the abandoned cabin while Bennett attempted to talk the gunman down. It had been a risk but they knew how dangerous Moore was and how little hesitation he had at ending a child's life. There was no soul, no remorse, he was a pure psychopath.

She had a decent chance, Moore had his back turned to the child and all she had to do was take the 5 or so steps towards Olivia and they'd be home free.

The floorboard creaked on the 4th step and the bullet ripped through the little girl faster than Olivia could train her weapon.

A millisecond later Bennett's bullet had punctured Moore's neck killing him instantly but where was the justice in that? Emily had been tortured for 3 days and he gets to rot in Hell instead of prison.

Olivia took it out on Bennett. Hard.

_You should have taken the shot sooner!_

Elliot would have.

When she got back to her apartment she knew she owed Bennett an apology, she was taking out her own careless judgment on hindsight she should have double-teamed Moore with Bennett, two weapons against one would have had more chance of success. This would have been something Elliot and she would have communicated without words but instead she panicked and tried to remove the girl from the situation rather than join it.

The gunshot had propelled Emily that final step closer until she fell into Olivia's open arms, the warm blood soaked into Olivia's shirt as she felt her life evaporate.

She didn't go back to the precinct, she went straight to her apartment stripped off her blood soaked clothes and let the water from the shower pound down on her as she sunk into the bath. She gripped onto her legs, rested her head against her knees and stayed like that until the water ran cold.

All she saw now was that last moment of hope in Emily's eyes at the thought that her nightmare was finally over. Now Bennett would have to inform her parents she was never coming home.

Emily had been Calvin's age.

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She hadn't heard her phone buzz from the living room and she hadn't heard him knock on her front door.

The water was so loud she didn't even hear him call out through the bathroom door but he was here and suddenly the ice-cold water above her was being shut off. She kept her face down and hugged her knees tightly as the remnants of frozen water cascaded down her body.

"Jesus." She heard his voice echo against the walls of her bathroom but she didn't look up. She felt the towel drape around her shoulders and hadn't realized how cold she was until now.

"You must be freezing." Elliot's hands rubbed up and down her back and she hated that he was here, witnessing her at her worst - again. He tried to get her to move out of the tub but she was immobilized.

_I can't fucking do this anymore,_ she wanted to scream.

The tears had started again, or maybe they never ever stopped and the water had only disguised them. She was now sobbing, almost struggling to breathe against her knees.

"Liv," he tried, kneeling down in front of the bath.

She didn't want him here, she couldn't handle his pity and maybe if she just ignored him he would go away. She tried to imagine what he was witnessing, a crying, shaking, naked mess. She hugged her legs tighter silently thankful that her body was for the most part covered.

"Please go Elliot," she said unsteadily, her words echoing through the cocoon she had made with her body. She didn't want him to see her like this, with all of her strength completely shattered.

"Liv, that water was ice-cold," he told her grasping her upper arms and doing his best to heave her into a standing position but she resisted still clinging onto her stance. "Please, you're going to get sick," he tried.

A few moments ticked by, her teeth were now chattering and she knew she would have to move soon. Slowly she started to stand up, modesty be damned, but when she got to her feet he had turned his face giving her a chance to cover up with the towel.

When he could see the towel was wrapped around her chest he turned back to her with an outstretched hand. She took it and wobbled uneasily as she stepped out of the bath and he steadied her until she was out.

She saw the blood stained clothing piled on the floor beneath their feet and Elliot followed her eye line. She bit into her quivering lip trying to block out the image of Emily's misguided hope and Elliot reached out smoothing a hand over her shoulder.

"It'll be ok Liv," he whispered and she narrowed her eyes at him, yanking herself away from his touch.

_How the hell would you know?_

She left him in the bathroom, made her way into the bedroom and just stared at her bed trying to figure out what she was supposed to do next. She was still shaking on her feet, all she wanted was to curl up in the warmth but she couldn't seem to get her body to move.

She could hear Elliot behind her, opening her dresser draws one after another. Moments later she felt an article of clothing move over her head and suddenly she was sporting an oversized tee-shirt she hadn't worn in years. He tugged the towel down, careful to ensure the material of the tee-shirt was covering her midway down her thighs

"Elliot, I want you to leave," she said vacantly still staring at her bed. She knew she wouldn't be sleeping tonight but she wanted to be alone, in privacy with her thoughts and her tears.

She wanted to finish off the rest of the scotch.

He wasn't leaving and she was trying unsuccessfully to rein in her anger at who exactly he thought he was coming into her home like this. He wasn't her partner anymore, he hadn't been there tonight, he had no right.

"Go," she said through gritted teeth finally turning to face him and he just stared ahead at her tear stained face that she was sure was red and blotchy at this point.

He did what he did best – ignored her.

He moved toward her bed and pulled down the comforter and sheets and instead of reacting to his blatant refusal she just left him in the bedroom and made a beeline for the kitchen.

When he came out she had just poured herself a nip of scotch and was lifting it to her lips. He didn't stop her, just watched her from the threshold of her kitchen as she tilted the glass and let the dark liquid slide down her throat in one motion.

She put the empty glass down on the counter and exhaled sharply. A few moments passed before she lifted the bottle to pour a second. He moved in then and stealthy seized the bottle from her grasp and held it definitively in his possession just looking at the side of her face.

"When did this start?" he asked her and his voice was gravelly, pained almost.

_When you fucked me in an alley._

But she wasn't that much of a bitch so she remained silent. The scotch had relaxed her already and she hated herself for it, this wasn't her, this wasn't how she dealt with pain. She wasn't her mother.

When she didn't answer him or even look in his direction, he moved over to the sink and drained the remainder of the bottle before putting it in her bin. When he came back to her, he encircled her forearm gently.

"Come on," he said as soothingly as he could muster and somehow, her feet managed to spring into action and she let him lead her back to the bedroom.

When they made it to her bed he turned to face her and watched as she raked a shaky hand through her wet hair, reminding her just how freezing she was. He didn't have to urge her because she was climbing under the covers already and pulling the blankets up to her chin. She tried to settle into the warmth but the fresh blankets would need to adjust to her body before the cold dissipated.

"It's cold," she exhaled and she rubbed her hands together under the blankets. He moved her damp hair out of her face and the warmth of his fingers gave her chills.

When she opened her eyes again, he was back at her dresser fishing for more items. He came over to her with a pullover, some pajama pants and underwear and began tugging down her blanket. She reached out her hand and smoothed it around his wrist.

"No…you," she said quietly and he stilled his motions unsure at first of what she meant, once it clicked he exhaled.

"Liv-" he began uneasily realizing just what she was implying.

"Please," she whispered not caring how needy and pathetic this would make her look in his eyes. She watched him swallow and drop his arm from her grasp and she did her best to hold it together trying not to fathom what it would do to her if he walked away now.

"Put on the clothes first," he said softly and she watched as he removed his leather jacket, the relief of that one action making her immediately soften.

She reached over to the pile of clothes he'd just delivered and slid the panties on underneath the sheets. She watched as he moved to the other side of her bed, toed off his shoes and hesitantly unzipped his pants.

She put her arms into the pullover and slunk it over her head. As she felt the mattress dip, her stomach dropped at the realization that he was in her bed. The pajama pants fell onto the floor but she didn't care, soon she would have the warmth she needed.

She lay on her side as he scooted closer to her somewhat cautiously and stopped just short of her body. She could sense his hesitation of actually touching her so she backed up a little until his chest met her back. She closed her eyes at the contact and exhaled when his hand came up and ran up and down her arm attempting to warm her up. His breath was heating the back of her neck and her tears had long since dried. It was then that she realized she hadn't thought about Emily for a whole 5 minutes.

"Why Liv?" he whispered into the back of her hair and she knew what he meant. Why this case out of all of them did she break?

_Because my partner wasn't there._

Her eyes were still closed and she didn't answer him, she wasn't going to admit that she was only half the detective now without him. Her head was pounding from the tears and the exhaustion and she didn't want to even entertain the possibility that if Elliot were still her partner Emily could still be alive. The truth remained however that they had selfishly chosen each other over the job - again.

She wanted her partner back so badly it killed her.

The tears began to spill again and suddenly she didn't want him touching her anymore because he would be able to feel the sobs wracking through her body as she tried unsuccessfully to stifle them.

She began to shimmy out of his grasp but his arm moved around her waist and pulled her back against him, spooning her flush against his body. She covered her face with her hands and muffled her cries as best she could. His nose nestled into the back of her wet locks and he held her close.

"I know Liv," he whispered.

He thought she was crying for Emily, but she was crying for them.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

She woke up with a start, blinking against the darkness and for a moment she didn't know where she was.

She had dreamt of Emily, of those eyes, of Hank Moore and yelling at Bennett.

She was coating the side of his hard body as he lay on his back, her bare leg lodged between his, her arm draped across his chest. Her tee-shirt had ridden up to her waist and she could feel the cotton of his boxer shorts against her panties, her heart accelerated at the thought. An arm was around her, his palm flattened on her lower back and she took a few moments to register just how strange it felt to wake up tangled against Elliot Stabler.

They've already had sex, something she still couldn't fathom as a reality because it had all happened so fast. There was no bed, no spooning, no sweet nothings – just a good hard fuck up against a brick wall before she walked away. They hadn't even seen each other naked.

This was different. This was intense, intimate and downright petrifying. She would smell him in her sheets when he left in the morning and her bed would never be the same again.

She was trying to rein in her breaths because her chest was expanding against his so rapidly now she was scared she would wake him. She shifted ever so slightly intending on extracting herself from his form when his hand slid down her lower back, his fingers grazing the lace of her panties at her backside.

She bit into her lip remaining perfectly still as his hand rested against her practically cupping her ass cheek. He was still asleep, she could tell by the steady rise and fall of his chest and she knew she should move but her body was suddenly immobilized. She was now all too aware of his thigh between her legs and the heat building within her.

Her hand that was splayed on his chest moved slowly across the plains of his muscles over his tee-shirt and softly back again. She reveled in the way he felt underneath her palm, so firm, so muscular, so masculine.

Her hand drifted lower, seeking the hem and without thinking she let her palm slip under the material and retrace her steps. She had been denied this in the alley, among other things, so she was going to take this opportunity to explore his naked chest.

Her hand roamed over his pecks, across his collarbone and down his breastbone until she reached the small patch of hair on his chest. She traced lazy figure eights across the crux of his chest just wishing he had taken his shirt off before he got into her bed. She exhaled into his neck and continued her path until her palm was running over his abdomen and stopping as it reached the trail of hair below his belly button. She then retraced her path, repeating the action at a devastatingly slow pace sending shivers throughout her body. She tried to ignore the ache between her legs and the muscle of his thigh pressing directly against her core. When her hand found its way back to the dip of his pelvis, she wanted nothing more than to move lower. Over the front of his boxers, between his legs, down his thick muscular thighs and back up again, until her hand was sliding up the hem of his boxers and seizing him between his legs.

_Fuck. _

Instead she let her fingers lazily trail the waistband of his boxers, trying to moisten her dry mouth and calm her heart rate down. He was asleep goddamn it and she was feeling him up.

As her hands gripped daringly on the waistband of his boxers she felt his fingers twitch against her ass and she froze thinking maybe he had woken. When she realized he had stilled again she let out the breath she was holding.

She started up her feather light touches once more, this time running her hand up the side of his torso, taking his shirt upward in the motion. Her slender fingers found their way to his bicep and she closed her eyes at the strength she felt beneath her grasp. She loved his arms, there was nothing more intense than when he would grasp her upper arm out of sheer frustration and she could feel the strength radiating from his fingertips.

Her hands were moving to his thighs, she didn't care about boundaries now as she slid beneath the blanket that cocooned them and across his bare thigh. She rubbed up and down the bulky muscle, feeling the soft hairs tickle her hand and she held her breath as she let her hand move higher up his inner thigh. Her hand slipped beneath the hem of his boxer leg and she stopped just short, careful not to touch anything other than his thigh. Her thumb swiped lazily back and forth and she closed her eyes wanting to commit this to memory.

She felt his thigh twitch suddenly under her grasp and she stilled her hand just waiting to see if she was about to be caught red handed. His other thigh, the one between her legs moved upward suddenly rocking a flood of pleasure through her groin. She groaned before she could stop herself and she felt his fingers tense against her ass.

He was awake.

She could feel his breathing change beneath her and her hand was still half way up his boxer leg. She closed her eyes, maybe she could pretend she was still asleep but he was already moving his hand down encircling her wrist. She let him move her hand out from under the blanket and his head lolled downward towards her.

"Liv," he whispered and her heart rate bolted into a frenzy at the thought that he was going to call her on it. "Liv, you gotta move," he told her and she remained still, wishing this didn't have to end just yet.

When she didn't comply she felt his hand come down and grasp her hip intending to gently tip her off his leg but he stilled when he touched the lace material of her panties and not her pajama pants. Her tee-shirt and pullover was still bunched around her waist and all she could concentrate on was the fact that he hadn't retracted her hand from her hip yet.

She could feel his chest rising steadily beneath her at the contact and she let her hand skim down and underneath his tee-shirt once more. He did his best to relax against her touch as she lazily traced the plains of his chest. She felt him try and steady his breathing below her and then it was as if time stood still when she let her hand slowly move down the centre of his chest, across his stomach and over his hardened cock. Her breath caught in surprise and he groaned as she moved across the material of his boxers. He pulled her wrist quickly away and used his body to roll her to the side. She slumped off him falling onto her back and he sunk back down into the mattress, rubbing a hand over his face.

"Olivia." Her name was muffled against the palm of his hand and he sounded all kinds of pissed at her.

The silence was overbearing as she lay there listening to the ragged breaths he was omitting, trying to figure out if she could fix this. She shouldn't have pushed her luck so soon.

"You need..." he started slowly and she held her breath. "You need to get some sleep."

She closed her eyes. That was the last thing she needed. The ache between her legs wasn't going away and she had a feeling the throbbing between his wouldn't either.

She knew this wasn't why he came here and wasn't how he pictured tonight would go but she needed him - tonight of all nights. She didn't care about the dating, the flowers, the candy, shouting over the top professions of love in the pouring rain. That was the unrealistic crap you'd only see in the movies or at least not in their world. She just cared about him and being with him in whatever shape or form that came in and tonight she needed him to take the pain away. The restraint within her finally lifted.

"That's not what I need," she whispered into the darkness. Her voice had been thick and her seriousness had been evident.

He didn't respond. He had created enough space between them so they were no longer touching but she could still feel the heat radiating only inches away. She knew the internal struggle his mind and body would be having right now but she wanted him to decide this for himself so she wouldn't push him.

She could easily move her hand across and touch the first thing she could secure but decided she wouldn't use her hands or her body to convince him - just her words.

"El," she whispered and she could feel the tension radiating from beside her as she said it. "I need you to touch me."

She knew it was wrong, she knew her words would trump any feeble excuse he had to deny her. He would do anything to make her feel better, to take the pain away and it just so happened that she required his hands on her tonight. He still hadn't answered and she was sticking to her guns by not reaching out herself because she needed him to take that step.

"Liv." She heard the pain in her name and felt incredibly guilty for causing him this much anguish. He'd felt like shit after he lost control and took her up against the alley wall and here she was, a broken mess, begging him to cross another line and take advantage of her fragility.

This was different she wanted to tell him, this was her losing the control, not him and because she could never overpower him with her physical strength, she did so with her words.

"Please El," she whispered and she knew with that one plea she had sealed their fate. She wasn't one to beg, or plead or wallow and he knew how hard that would have been for her.

She counted the heartbeats slamming in her chest and had made it to about 17 when she felt him finally shift beside her. She closed her eyes and lay as still as possible as he shifted his weight onto his side. He inched ever so closer until she felt his chest brush her arm that remained flat by her side. She tried to swallow, steady her breathing, to calm the fuck down but couldn't seem to manage any one of them.

She heard his hand rustle against the blanket and felt him tugging it downward until it reached her hips. The cold night air hit the exposed skin of her abdomen and she shivered, her nipples hardening under her layers of clothing. When she felt his palm descend tenderly on her stomach she jumped slightly underneath his touch. He left his hand there waiting for her to settle against him but she couldn't seem to manage to stop her body from trembling. If her intention was not to scare him off she wasn't doing a very good job because she could practically taste his uncertainty. His hand slipped off her abdomen and the disappointment hit her hard as she waited, unable to find her voice or her nerve.

She felt the pillow bow softly next to her as his face sunk down beside hers, he was close and she could feel the light breaths against the side of her cheek. Her eyes were still closed when he moved his hand back to her stomach and she didn't flinch this time. He trailed his fingers back and forth across her skin, slowly inching up further until they were running over her ribs and then back down again. She had a steady grasp on her breathing for the moment as he teased her skin with his coarse fingers. When they slid down the slide of her torso her body erupted in goosebumps and she jolted at the mixture of pleasure and tickle. He stilled his hand just below her breasts and started to trace lazy figure eights. Her stomach dropped suddenly at the realization that he must have been awake when she did that to him.

She felt her cheeks ignite from embarrassment but the feeling was soon lost when he started to thumb the soft underside of her breast. He moved his fingers back and forth against the base of the mound careful not to go any higher, her nipples tightening painfully under the layers.

He had barely touched her that night in the alley and right now all she wanted was for him to go higher and encircle her breast, tease her nipple, grasp her but he was retracting his hand and moving it back towards her stomach.

She felt his pinky skim the waistband of her panties and her breath hitched. He traced the perimeter and she tried not to react as his thumb rubbed over her hipbone before moving over the muscle of her upper thigh. She tensed beneath him as he squeezed it and her legs couldn't help but absently part. Her thigh knocked against his side and he took that opportunity to move across her inner thigh, thumbing the soft skin just below her panties. This was excruciating, the ache between her legs was throbbing and she wanted so desperately to move her lower half further down until he was touching her.

As his hand moved higher his finger hit the seam of her panties and he trailed the lace at the side careful not to brush against her directly. Her breathing deepened in anticipation and she was slowly losing her patience.

His hand started to retreat then and she felt it back on her stomach and sliding up north. She was moments from opening her mouth in complaint when she felt his hand run firmly across her bare breast and squeezed it beneath his palm. A noise at the back of her throat escaped her as he dragged his thumb across her nipple and it hit her hard between her legs, a rush of wetness pooling as he teased her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. He squeezed, tweaked and flicked the hardened nub and her hips bucked at the sensation.

He moved his hand then, until they were sliding up her breast bone, over her chest and ended up around her neck. His fingers splayed across her collarbones until they found their way back to her other breast. He turned his hand over, rubbing his knuckles playfully over her breast, teasing her nipple, capturing it between his fingers and pinching, hard.

"Fuck." It had escaped her without a thought and she realized she had said it out loud. He flipped his hand over and squeezed her breast in response.

She was getting beyond impatient now and her legs were pushing into the side of his body urging him to move downward and touch her between her legs. His head moved in closer until his lips were in line with her ear and she held her breath at what he was about to say to her.

"We need to get something straight," he whispered, his breath ragged and her heart thumped incessantly at the seriousness in his voice. His hand was laying idol on her breast and she waded through the silence just waiting for him to continue because right now she couldn't form words.

"You asked me to touch you," he reminded her and she got chills at the words, unsure as to where he was going with this. "That's all I'm doing tonight," he whispered into her neck and she took a minute to register just what he was implying.

His hands. That's all she was getting tonight, not his mouth, his lips, his tongue or his throbbing cock.

She was about to react to his words because the anger was slowly seeping it's way into her system when his hand moved off her breast and grasped the muscle of her inner thigh yanking her body an inch or so down the bed so he had better access to her body. Her head had fallen off the pillow and he was looking down at her in the darkness. Her eyes had adjusted somewhat and she could see he was resting his head on his hand that was bent at the elbow.

She wanted to rebut, tell him she didn't agree with his ridiculous terms but his hand had already started it's ascent up her thigh and at that point she didn't really care if it meant him finally touching her between her legs.

As he made it millimeters away from his destination he grasped the muscle of her inner thigh and squeezed causing a weak noise to escape her mouth at the sudden motion. She could feel his thumb and index finger bordering her panties he was that close.

She thought about the underwear she was wearing, they were lavender, lace and rode low on her hips and high up her ass cheeks. She wondered if he'd picked them out purposefully or if they had just been the first pair he could find. It didn't matter now she concluded because his fingers were twitching against her and she braced herself for his next move. Her mouth parted when they moved the small distance and brushed against the lace covering her core.

She felt the puffs of air against her neck increase as his fingers located the wetness against her panties and began to run slowly up and down her opening. Her chest was rising and falling by the second and when he pushed two fingers at her entrance through the damp material she bunched the sheets beneath her in fists letting out the ragged breath she was holding.

He released the pressure at her entrance and moved his hand off her completely, grasping her thigh and dragging it closer to his body, spreading her legs further in the process. He was back between her legs before she knew it and was cupping her through the material, gently rocking his hand against her and it took everything not to grind herself against him in response. His thumb located her clit and thumbed across it repetitively, the lace scraping against her sensitive nub and she called out, incidentally jerking her leg into his shin in the process.

That's it; she wanted him inside her in some way shape or form. His hands, his tongue, his cock, she didn't care. She didn't even care that her top half was restricted with layer upon layer, all she cared about was the overbearing ache between her legs and she wanted him inside her now.

She raised her hips, giving in and moving herself slowly against his hand, urging him to slip between the material and he matched her motion, rubbing his hand in time with her movements causing an unbearable friction. He still wasn't moving inside the material, despite the dampness he'd be encountering and she wanted to tell him he was killing her right now but he already knew.

He was waiting for her, she knew, for encouragement, to tell him to touch her, finger her, move his hand inside her panties and somehow miraculously she got her voice to work.

"El," she said in a breath and his hand still against her panties and she counted the breaths that passed between them. She felt the tension straining from him at the thought that she was going to stop this. Her heart was slamming against her chest at the possibility that if she said the wrong thing she could be left with this never ending ache. She let her head roll slightly until her nose was grazing his shirt. "Please," she whispered, her voice a mixture of immense agony and arousal.

His lips sought out the crown of her head and she heard him inhale her scent and after a few agonizing moments his hand started to move against her once more. He was still cupping her as a stray finger found itself slipping under the material from the side of her panties. When it swiped across the dampness she exhaled as he simultaneously groaned into her hair at what he had found. It was the hottest sound she'd ever heard.

He let his finger trail the juices and she almost felt embarrassed at how damn wet she must be but she couldn't move, or breathe or think right now. Suddenly she wanted to be naked; she wanted her clothes off, her panties off and his hand exactly where it was but she knew what he was doing. He was keeping this as innocent as possible; he didn't want temptation from her skin, her breasts. No lights, no desire filled looks, just his hand between her legs taking the ache away in more ways that one.

As he moved higher up her panties, she was sure her body was shaking. She wanted something to hold onto, something to make this feel real and not just a dream. If she moved her right hand she would be likely to come in contact with his penis so instead she moved her left hand above her head until she located his arm holding up his head. She encircled his wrist and without much resistance he dropped his arm and let her tug it towards her, entertaining her fingers with his. His head dropped down so his lips were practically skimming her temple as he moved his hand inside the entrance to her panties and across her completely.

She gasped a little at the contact and melted as two fingers parted her, dipping into the moisture. He ran his fingers across her at an excruciatingly slow pace and she tried to refrain from bucking against him. When they ran over her clit she absentmindedly squeezed his hand as the shudder of pleasure coursed through her. He hadn't even penetrated and the pleasure was building by the second. She didn't want this to be over, she never wanted this to end so she tried in vain to block out the stimulation his fingers were causing.

She could feel the breaths against her temple matched by the rise and fall of her chest and her hips were slowly starting to rock against him as his fingers traced her entrance. A noise ripped through her larynx as he slid a finger inside her and his lips crashed into her temple.

"Fuck Liv," he whispered sending shivers coursing through her body. She spread her legs just a little further and he slid in a second finger causing her to choke on a moan as his thick fingers began to fill her, stretching her walls. He slid them half way inside her before retracting partway and gently sliding back in. The second time he managed to fill her completely and she whimpered as the base of his palm came flush up against her clit.

Her hips reacted then and she knew this was all about to come to an earth-shattering end, but she didn't care. She needed this release, she need to come against Elliot in the safely of his arms and not a random alley. She had never considered herself to be a needy person, she'd done a bang up job getting through life without any of that co-dependency bullshit but right now in this moment she understood what it was like to need someone so badly it could kill her.

His fingers curled against her walls and her left hand reached out and grasped whatever she could find seizing the hem of his tee-shirt and bunching it into her fist, tugging him ever so closer. She was rocking her lower half against him now and she could hear the panting in her ear as he increased the pressure, holding her lower half firmly into the mattress as she ground upward against his hand.

She wanted to tell him she was close, that at any moment he would have her spiraling over the edge but she didn't have to as his thumb had sought out her clit. He rubbed back and forth, once, twice, three times until she yelled out the start of his name overpowered by a moan. Her walls clenched around him and her body quivered relentlessly against him. He held her tight as she writhed against his touch and whimpered as the last throb of her orgasm contracted around his fingers.

_Fuck._

His breath was heavy in her ear as he slowed down his motions, letting her come back down to earth. As her breaths started to taper down he slowly slid out of her and she winced at mixture of sensitivity and coolness of the air that hit her between her legs. She couldn't move, her whole body lay motionless against the mattress and she felt unbelievably exhausted. She finally managed to slowly release his shirt that she'd captured between her fist but wasn't ready to let his hand between her fingers go just yet. She could feel the perspiration between their palms at how tightly she had clung to him.

His lips found her temple and he pressed them against her for a few passing moments until he released his lips. She felt him start to move his hand out of their clasp and her eyebrows drew together in confusion as she felt him start to pull away. She felt the mattress shifting beneath her, bobbing and rocking until it was clear he had moved out of the bed.

She wanted to ask him if he was ok, what he was doing but she'd been beyond needy tonight and needed to get a hold of herself. If he was going to walk out or walk away, she needed to be ready for it because the more comfortable she got with him, the harder it would be to watch him walk away.

He moved through the darkness towards her bathroom and when she heard the bathroom door click shut behind him she let out the breath she was holding. She tried not to read into it, she tried not to let the surge of panic marinate, that he was already regretting it and would leave her tonight. She wasn't going to get out of the bed, follow him to the door, tap on it lightly and ask him if he was ok. She just closed her eyes and tried to relax.

For a good while she didn't hear anything at all and that only heightened her anxiety, then minutes later she heard the tap, some shuffling, the toilet flushed and then more silence. She shook her head. Did he not realize this was killing her? She was trying not to get angry but every minute that passed was making it increasingly harder.

She sighed into the night and decided she'd ignore it, if he was going to leave then she certainly wasn't going to lie there and watch him. She rolled onto her side so she was no longer facing the bathroom door and pulled up the covers, hugging them tightly around her. She closed her eyes and tried to relax, willing sleep to take over so she wouldn't have to be presented with Elliot's departure.

She wondered what time it was, it had to be around 3 or 4am because it was still dark out. They barely had any sleep and it wouldn't be long before they both had to be at work, maybe Elliot leaving wasn't such a bad idea after all.

She finally heard the door to her bathroom open and the light splaying irritated her eyes, so she squeezed them shut. She could feel him hesitate only briefly before she heard the light flick off and he was moving towards her bed. She felt the bed dip again as he started to climb under the covers and she wanted to lash out then, ask him just what he thought he was doing but somehow she managed to keep still and just waited him out.

He didn't reach out, he didn't touch her, or spoon her, or move closer to her, he just laid flat on his back at least a body length away and she listened to the rise and fall of his breathing. His mind was ticking over, she knew it, the regret, the embarrassment, the discomfort. Her eyes narrowed in the darkness - if he was staying on her account then she didn't need any goddamn favors.

"Just go Elliot," she let the bitter words escape before she could help herself and she could no longer hear the rise and fall of his chest. The unyielding seconds ticked by as she anxiously waited his response.

"Are you kidding me?" he sounded pissed as all hell and her heart rate inclined at the audacity _he_ had to be the angry one. She turned then, a prompt 180 and she was facing him in the dark, barely able to make out his features after the bathroom light threw her off.

"You don't have to feel like you owe me anything ok," she told him directly trying desperately to keep the hurt from her words and focus solely on the emotion of anger.

"What the _hell_ are you talking about?" he stabbed back defensively.

"You completing your duty Elliot and then wanting an out," she responded in a rush. "Well here it is - I think you should leave."

He reached out then, between the sheets and seized the first thing he could locate - her wrist. He yanked her the body length across to him until she practically rammed into his chest, his face inches away. She tried to pull away from him, twist out of his grasp but he had her tight.

"What are you doing?" he whispered in her ear and she felt incredibly overwhelmed, the strength of his grasp poles apart from the weakness in his words.

She felt badly then, maybe she had misread him but he was the one who distanced himself from her in the first instance. She felt ridiculous, what was she supposed to say now? You just gave me the most intense orgasm of my life and I thought you were leaving?

"I'm sorry," she whispered quickly and his grip on her wrist eased up but he wasn't letting her off the hook completely.

She could feel him close, in the dark and she wished she could see at least the outline of his face because being unable to read his expression was beyond alarming. He wasn't answering her or accepting her apology and appeared to be waiting for an explanation.

"I thought-" she started and then promptly stopped herself before she sounded like a crazed nutcase. A few moments passed before she bowed her head in embarrassment. "Forget it."

"Tell me." His voice had been gentle but his words were a demand and at that point she was the one who wanted answers.

"What were you doing in the bathroom?" she asked him quietly and his grip on her wrist relaxed to the point where she could slip it out. She remained sitting up, staring across in the darkness, his features slowly coming to light in front of her.

"Would you just tell me what's going on?" Elliot exhaled, sounding physically and emotionally exhausted.

Her body caved into the awkwardness and she slunk back down onto the pillow, dragging a hand over her face. She wished he would just forget the whole thing and let her sleep but she knew she'd have no chance.

"What am I supposed to think when you lock yourself in the bathroom for ten minutes Elliot?" she said with irritation.

A few moments of silence passed and she could sense the confusion radiating from Elliot. Man he was dim.

"That you regretted it, that you were trying to figure out a way to leave without offending me, that it _shouldn't have happened that way_," she quoted him word for word.

She heard him sigh and drop his body down to hers. He remained silent, each painstaking minute that passed made her think she'd hit the nail on the head because he wasn't telling her any different. Moments from lashing out she heard a quiet chuckle escape from his mouth and her eyes went wide.

"What the hell is so funny?" she yelled and felt a hand come down seeking out hers, attempting to intertwine their fingers but she pulled away. He continued to chuckle and she lost it, her hand moving across and whacking him against the chest. "I'm not crazy," she continued her rant. "Then you lay miles away from me - what am I supposed to think?"

His chuckles increased and she was ready to really lose it when he killed the laughter suddenly and rolled over so he was coasting the side of her as she lay on her back.

"Olivia," he began and she tried not to react to the tone of his voice and the use of her full name. "I dismissed myself to…" his words drifted off and suddenly it hit her before he even had to finish. "Calm my situation down south so we could both get some sleep."

Now she felt like the dim one.

She wasn't exactly sure how to take that. He didn't want her touching him tonight and didn't appear to need the same release that she did.

"I told you what tonight was about," he reiterated before she could read too much into it and she let her head loll to the side until it made contact with his, suddenly she felt incredibly ridiculous.

"I wanted to touch you," she said slowly, almost angry at him for taking away that privilege.

His lips found their way to her neck and he brushed them against her causing her to jolt at the ticklish sensation it developed.

"You have no idea how much..." he let his words trail off before he said too much and she could tell he was still struggling with restraining himself.

"El, this is stupid, just let me-" she rolled over then, her hand grazing his abdomen descending towards his boxers and he gripped her wrists before she made it far.

"Don't Liv," he said seriously. "I have just spent 10 minutes calming myself down."

A smile broke over her face then as the thought occurred to her that maybe _calming himself down_ was a euphemism. She thought back to the running water, the flushing toilet, perhaps methods of potential concealment.

It was her turn to chuckle then.

"What?" he said with a smile in his voice as she pulled her hand away and rolled onto her side, her back to him. She tried to stifle the amusement but it just kept coming, the muffled laughs racking through her shoulders. He grasped her around the waist and pulled her against him, purposefully keeping his lower half away from her backside. "What's so funny?" he shook her gently as she continued her protest of silence.

"Nothing," she dismissed him, the smile still plastered on her face.

She had visions of Elliot standing in her bathroom touching himself and it was the hottest thing she'd ever imagined. It dawned on her that she didn't want confirmation on what exactly happened in the bathroom, she would just let the fantasy remain as is.

"Night El," she whispered with a chuckle and surprisingly he didn't push the matter any further and she had a feeling she knew why.

**TBC**


	7. Chapter 7

_Hello – so sorry for the delay! I blame twitter, tumblr, a severe case of writers block and Christmas. A huge thank you to LeMiSo who urged me to continue and even sent me a list of possible scenarios when I was stuck in writersblock-rut-town. She also wins all the awards for fastest beta turn around in under 2 hours at 3am! She really is the shizz - especially when I start making up words like blazen.. :: crickets :: _

_A huge thank you also to everyone who is along for this ride and all your insanely lovely comments, they really do inspire me to keep at it. Here is the next chapter and I promise I won't take as long with the next now that I'm back on track. Just as an FYI this story is set early to mid Season 12, before Pursuit, Bombshell, Smoked or any of that messed up crap took place._

**Chapter 7**

He woke up to the sound of his cell phone piercing through his subconscious.

He could hear the ringing in the distance but it wasn't on the side table where he usually kept it. It wasn't even his side table he realized as he opened his eyes and the ringing was coming from somewhere on the floor.

_Her floor._

He reached down and grasped at the leg of his jeans that were piled messily beside his shoes and jacket and tugged it towards him. He seized the phone from his pocket only to realize it was his preset alarm waking him from his slumber and not a phone call.

He clicked it off immediately and dropped it down on the ground with a sigh. He was exhausted having had barely slept a wink all night. How could he when Olivia lay in his arms, bottomless, twitching in her sleep, against him, her ass sporadically bumping against his unforgiving hard on. He nearly had to retreat to the bathroom a couple more times during the night but decided extracting his body from hers and methodically counting sheep would suffice.

It didn't help, even when he wasn't touching her he could still feel the heat from her body and hear the soft breaths beside him reminding him of just how real the situation was.

He had come to her for comfort. The moment Bennett came back into the precinct without her, he knew something was off. Cragen was in troubleshooting mode, Bennett looked like he'd seen a ghost and Fin was asking all the right questions. All Elliot could think about was Olivia and how this would be killing her right now. This didn't happen; they didn't lose often and after everything she had been through recently this would have been the straw that broke the camels back. So he came to her - immediately, when he probably shouldn't have. He came to provide support, aid, a shoulder, a genuine platonic comfort from one friend to another in need.

_Fuck_ he was kidding himself; he lost the right to any platonic thoughts the moment he took her up against the alley wall. Or perhaps it was the moment she asked him to fuck her undercover - he wasn't sure. Either way his restraint last night should go down in the history books because the way her body was reacting to his touch made him throb with an overwhelming desire.

He was still hard he realized as he lay flat on his stomach, still unable to move since he'd tossed his phone. He could feel his morning erection pressing into the mattress below him and he closed his eyes willing his body to just turn the fuck off. He wasn't even touching her, or even aware of how close she was in bed and he wasn't game to turn his body to see just yet.

That's when he heard a noise from the bathroom and he turned quickly to realize she wasn't even in bed with him. Her side was empty and he could see the bathroom door slightly ajar. He heard some soft clinking and rubbed a hand over his face trying to figure out how he was going to conceal his obvious arousal. This was ridiculous, he was as horny as a teenager.

Then as if she knew he didn't want company, the bathroom door opened suddenly and he rolled onto his back dragging her comforter up his body in the process. She was fully dressed; black jeans, a navy v-neck sweater with immaculate hair and make up.

He still had sleep in his eyes.

She locked eyes with him as she made her way over to the bed and he gave her an attempt at a sleepy smile. She didn't return it and he could sense her hesitation as she approached him. She stopped just short of the bed and dipped down scooping up his jeans and holding them out to him.

"We should get going," she told him no longer looking him in the eye and his jaw twitched at her blatant dismissal.

He had an overwhelming urge to grasp her wrist instead of the pants, drag her back into bed and pull off those tight black jeans but somehow he refrained. She could be distant he decided; she was entitled. This was strange for the both of them having him wake in her bed so he needed to understand that she wasn't pushing him away - she was just trying to deal with it the best way she knew how.

_Distance._

He didn't reach out for his jeans until she finally made eye contact with him, then he took them from her slowly and he was surprised when she didn't look away. Her mouth even made motions to say something before she stopped herself and he just lay there clutching his jeans, looking up at her - making no attempt to get dressed.

A few beats passed before she scratched her temple with her knuckle, a unique habit he'd noticed over the years when she was uncomfortable or contemplative. He wondered which one it was and assumed that perhaps in this case it was both.

The tension between them was escalating now and he needed to say something, anything to break the stony silence between them but it was one of those moments where his mind failed him and he couldn't think of a rational thing to say. Not when those piercing chocolate eyes were probing his so intently.

When it was clear he wasn't moving or speaking she exhaled heavily - almost angrily he noted, and he realized that it must have been his job to fill the silence or at least attempt to. It didn't matter now because he had waited a beat too long and she was turning, walking towards her bathroom leaving the disappointment to smother him.

She didn't shut the door but he heard the faucet go and the echoing sounds of her brushing her teeth. He tossed off the comforter and pulled his jeans on, thankful that things down south were slowly starting to calm down. He slipped on his shoes and leather jacket, shoved his cell phone into his pocket and somewhat hesitantly headed towards the bathroom.

He came up behind her in the bathroom and her eyes flicked to his in the reflection of the mirror as she brushed her teeth. He watched her for a brief moment before he moved forward and picked up the tube of toothpaste that was resting in the cup.

He squeezed a portion onto his finger and before he reached his mouth she grasped his wrist and pulled it slowly down. He was about to ask what she was doing when she opened the bathroom cabinet, seized a fresh toothbrush still in it's original packaging and started to tear away at the cardboard backing. He watched as her own toothbrush bobbed in her mouth, the froth of the paste lining her lips as she worked on the packaging.

She looked adorable and he tried not to smile.

When she finally got the brush free their eyes met when she handed it to him and she continued up the motions of brushing her own teeth. He waited a few beats, in awe of the gesture before him and spread the toothpaste from his finger onto the bristles. He eyed her curiously before he started up his own motions.

They stood then, side by side in front of the sink and brushed their teeth in silence. It was a bizarre, surreal moment and like none other he had experienced with her. He didn't let himself linger on the comfort of this personal moment for too long because he knew what this was - a morning where he had woken in her space after a night where she'd needed him. The problem was her need for him had always been sporadic and in the cold light of day he could already feel it fading.

She spat out the toothpaste and rinsed the brush under the tap before putting it back into the cup. He followed her motions, rinsing his brush and dropping absentmindedly in the cup next to hers.

He looked over at her then and watched the side of her face as she eyed their toothbrushes that now sat side-by-side and he knew what she was thinking. He could practically see the walls erecting before him. She wiped the corners of her mouth and finally she surrendered to his gaze and he saw the apprehension clear as day within those brown eyes.

It was as if the signal that toothbrush would have represented had just dawned on her and he knew that had never been her intention. It was just supposed to be an off the hand offer, not some expectation or promise for the future. He ignored the pang of disappointment because he needed to get that look off her face – now.

"Liv," he started and he saw her jaw clench at the thought of what he might say.

His mind ticked over and suddenly for her sake more than his he changed course.

"We should get going."

**::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**

They arrived at the precinct separately which hadn't exactly been intentional but she was grateful.

Elliot had driven to his apartment first to get changed and she headed straight in to see Cragen. She had fled the scene last night after the incident and the last thing she needed was more doubt and uncertainty that she couldn't do her job. The case had hit her hard; they'd lost a child, but she knew what Cragen would be thinking – her capabilities were now halved without him.

_Well screw that. _

She'd survived without him before. Oregon, Computer Crimes, the odd case where he'd been tied up in court, out of town or on leave and she had done just fine. She was not going to let this beat her, she was strong enough on her own; a lesson she had learnt very early in life. It was just something about having him so close, yet so far that rattled her. He was still in her space but not by her side. He was adjacent to her desk but not opposite it. He was a constant, bitter reminder dangling in front of her of how things could be - or more to the point _should be._

What scared her was that it would almost be easier if he weren't there at all - instead of quitting _her_ he should have quit. Period. Then maybe she'd have a chance at moving on and developing some sort of a bond or rhythm with Bennett because right now he was just a poor substitute.

She was angry, angry at his audacity to so selfishly change their path. Had he even considered his options? Her feelings or what this would do to them? She knew Sin would alter them considerably but she was too hell bent on saving his life to think too far into the future. She did what she had to do in the heat of the moment and had never expected it would result in him giving up on her - on _them_. He'd made the decision, taken away a part of her she'd never get back and replaced it with - she didn't even know. She wasn't even sure what they were doing and where it would lead and that was quite possibly what scared her the most. They'd given up their world, everything they had created together, the safety, the friendship, _the team_ – the bond that would outlast life itself and for what?

Sex? A few explosive orgasms after a hard day at the office? She was well aware the effect he had on her body, it was like none other she had ever experienced, he was her yin to her yang but sex was at the end of the day – just sex.

She didn't even know the details of his family situation right now. He had moved out, his ring finger was bare, he had an apartment in the city she'd never seen and he'd signed the divorce papers but he hadn't talked about it. Not one word as to how he was taking the demise of his marriage; his high school sweetheart, the mother of his children and what's more - she didn't ask.

She felt like a bitch for brushing it under the rug but the truth is she didn't want to know. She didn't want to feel the guilt that used to seep into her during the darkest part of the night when her mind wandered to Elliot. His hands, his mouth, his scent. The look he gave her that day that lingered just a little too long - but that was it, just looks, she was entitled to that she determined, or at the very least a brief touch. They had been friends, they could touch, when the chips were down, they could touch goddamn it without her feeling like she was going straight to hell.

But damn, she wasn't going to lie. Last night had been phenomenal, there were no logical words she could process to describe the heat and pleasure she'd experienced when he touched her. Then his physical restraint at her attempt at reciprocation was excruciatingly noble. She wanted him so fucking badly but want and need were two very different things and she wasn't going to let herself rely on him. She just couldn't, she had done so in the past and had been burned - seared by his rejection and it nearly killed her.

She had been stand offish with him this morning because it had become all too much. The moment she woke up draped across the plains of his back the harsh reality hit her like a tone of bricks. She needed him; even in her subconscious sleep state she'd sought him out in her bed. He'd even turned away from her, lying flat on his stomach while she practically coated the side of his body with hers.

That wasn't her - she wasn't needy, she didn't pine, she didn't beg but she had done all those things and more last night. She'd temporarily lost her state of mind and now she had found herself marching into Cragen's office to get it back.

**::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**

Elliot walked into the precinct and caught sight of the back of her head immediately. She was perched in the chair opposite Cragen's desk and he narrowed his eyes attempting to gauge the mood of the conversation.

Cragen seemed irritated which wasn't necessarily unusual but he would have expected compassion or empathy after the events of the Moore case or even a push for Huang maybe but not irritation. His jaw clicked as he imagined just what she was saying to piss him off.

_Damn it Liv._

He heard the raised voices, the brief commotion and then she was up and out of her seat before he had a chance to tear his eyes away. She stormed out of Cragen's office - tension radiating off her body and he knew that _don't fuck with me _mood.

She made her way towards her desk without so much as a look in his direction and he made the mistake of reaching out and grasping her wrist halting her in her tracks. It was supposed to be innocent, just an attempt to stop her at his desk but he knew what she'd be thinking.

_Don't touch me - not here._

She ripped her hand away from his immediately and his stomach dropped as her eyes shot daggers into his. His mouth opened and closed as he watched her, trying desperately to ascertain a way to fix his fuck up and quickly.

"Everything ok?" he mustered as casually as he could and she narrowed her eyes at him, still unable to get past his not so innocent touch. He could feel Bennett's eyes on them and she must have realized this wasn't the time or the place because her glare had softened slightly.

"It's fine," she managed, her voice a mixture of annoyance and disorder. He just nodded, not buying her token statement for a second but knowing he couldn't do a thing about it.

She moved then, back to her desk and he could see Bennett eyeing her curiously as she grabbed a few items from her desk.

"I've got an appointment," she told Bennett directly, her voice a fraction more forgiving when she spoke to him. "I'll be back around 11, I'm on my cell."

Bennett didn't ask for any more information than what she provided and it surprised Elliot. He was usually one to pry, overstep the partner boundary and it was only fitting that the one time Elliot wanted him to push her, he didn't.

**::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**

"You look pissed Olivia."

Huang must have seen the storm in her eyes because there was no formal greeting or hello, he'd just cut right to the chase. Under any other circumstance she'd have rewarded his blunt statement with a knowing scoff or a sarcastic smile but not today.

She _was_ pissed. Livid at the fact that Cragen had yet again insisted she be here to discuss how undeniably hopeless she was at her job. The tension ransacking her body had only increased on the ride over here and as hard as she tried she knew that in moments she would unload the brunt of it on Huang.

"How many times are we going to do this?" she expelled the words with distaste as she dropped down on the couch in frustration. Huang clicked the door shut tentatively and walked over to his seat, gauging her body language as he did so.

"Do what?" he posed the obvious question and she wanted to scoff - more games, she just wanted to get to the point so she could get back to the precinct.

"Waste a quarter of a tank so I can drive over here and discuss my feelings every time I scuff my knee." She wasn't holding back and was almost begging him to challenge her.

"Is that how you look at this?" Huang asked slowly. "A scuffed knee?" His concern for the situation was evident and she felt the overwhelming sense of guilt wash over her.

_Emily._

'No.' She should have said, because it would have been her honest answer but instead -

"This isn't the first time I've lost," she reminded him, trying desperately to stifle the defensive flare in her tone. "I've been through the motions - this case is no different."

She thought if she vocalized it she would start to believe it but the lie made her throat constrict and the distant prod of tears began to overwhelm her. She narrowed her eyes trying to counteract their presence and for the time being she managed to succeed.

She was waiting for it, waiting for him to register what he'd just seen in her eyes and call her out on it. She had expected he would come back with the harsh truth. 'But this case _was_ different Olivia,' or something along those lines, instead –

"You miss your partner," his voice had been so quiet it was almost a whisper.

The statement jarred her. There had been no sugar coating, no leisurely build up to the reasoning behind her demise, just the honest reality laid out bare-naked in front of them. He wasn't going to be patient with her she realized and she knew then that today all bets would be off. She narrowed her eyes at him, ready for a fight - ready to defend herself and begin her tired course of denial. Then it struck her that everyone still referenced Elliot as _her partner_, even after the fact. How was she meant to move on when even they couldn't? It helped, she realized, deep down she felt a small sense of solace at the recognition that a few months apart hadn't completely erased their 12 years. It was that moment that she felt she owed Huang something, even if just for that slight sense of reassurance. He had been frank and so would she.

"Everyday."

She'd said the word, her tone had been bitter but she knew he'd picked up on the weakness she was desperately trying to conceal. She was supposed to be defending herself, proving that she could functionally exist without him but there was something about Huang that temporarily disabled her defenses. Cragen had been different, she'd flared up, he'd flared up and they'd pushed and pulled their conversation like a tug-of-war until it landed her on Huang's couch. She had no one to blame but herself for being here, she knew what she could have said to avoid this. The truth was maybe she needed this - to talk about _him_ with someone as far removed as her situation allowed.

"Do you and Elliot talk?" Huang asked her.

The question slammed her back into reality and she held her breath. Fuck it, fuck what she had just said - she didn't want to talk about Elliot, because talking about Elliot these days was a whole different ball game. She didn't think she had the ability to hide the way she felt about him from Huang anymore – hell even Fin had picked up on it.

Her mouth made motions to talk and she felt the heat seeping into her chest, rising up her neck and flushing her cheeks. She prayed that Huang hadn't noticed her body practically ignite. She was trying to figure out how she was going to respond but any answer that came to mind could be potentially damaging. She had been silent for too long and the more she prolonged this the more suspicious he'd become.

"Sometimes," she answered and her voice had somehow miraculously been controlled. Then she realized her answer had just opened up the avenue to more questions and she knew what was coming next.

"What do you talk about?" he asked her curiously.

She felt cornered, she tried to think – she had no idea. They didn't talk really, they hadn't actually spoken about a damn thing that mattered since Sin. Fortune cookies were all that came to mind, _fucking _Fortune cookies. She exhaled and threw her hands up a little in defeat realizing she had nothing.

"Nothing really," she voiced her realization. "Just small talk." She couldn't understand how they had become so close physically without so much as a conversation that hadn't involved ancient Chinese prophecies.

"Liv," Huang began and immediately Olivia felt the mood shift in the room, as if suddenly he was talking to her as a friend as opposed to a professional.

She clasped her hands before her as if she were bracing herself for a bombshell, something far worse than the forward questions he'd already dropped today. His mouth opened and she held her breath.

"You need to talk to him," he said it so casually it pained her, like it was that easy. It wasn't rocket science; you just pull him aside, you open your mouth and your heart and the words will come.

Her jaw clenched and she tightened her clasped hands - suddenly she wanted to hit something. There were no words of wisdom, she wasn't going to be struck with some profound epiphany – she was simply going to walk out of here just as irate as she'd entered. All he had given her was a captain obvious statement that Cragen could have thrown at her back at the precinct.

She'd dropped the eye contact and she was staring at the maroon swirls in the carpet, her fingers pressing into the flesh of her hands. She was just going to walk out she decided because she had nothing left to say and she was done discussing Elliot. Then as if Huang could sense she was nearing the end of her tether, he said the words that made her stomach fall a mile.

"He's not married anymore," he said quietly.

Her head shot up immediately and she locked eyes with him in utter shock that he'd actually dropped the motherload of all bombshells when she had been least prepared for it. Her mouth opened and then closed suddenly and she could hear her heartbeat slamming in her ears at Huang's blatant comment. She took a sharp intake of breath before responding.

"And that's relevant how?" she pressed before she mulled too long on her response. She had gone straight to pure, black and white denial. He considered her for a brief moment before answering.

"You tell me," he said knowingly and the pounding in her ears heightened considerably. In the 12 years that she'd known Huang, he had never been this direct with her, open and downright frank. She felt cornered, trapped and unbelievably tired of the constant need to defend and deny herself.

The pinpricks of tears were back, prodding at her stubborn eyes that remained locked with Huang's. She tried to figure out if this was the part where she would crack and let it all spill out or if she'd muster the last ounce of strength her fragile body would allow. She took the short sharp breaths that she could only just manage and because she was a fighter, she didn't go down that easy.

"I'm here to talk about Emily," she said deflecting his question entirely, the sour tone on her tongue clearly evident.

"No," Huang didn't miss a beat. "You're here to _talk_."

The authority in Huang's voice was foreign, it embodied strength she'd never been privy too and it was unnerving. She wondered if perhaps he was trying an alternate path with her because sympathy and compassion had only gotten him so far in the past. Or maybe Huang was just reaching the end of _his_ tether with her. Either way it had now dawned on her that Cragen hadn't sent her here to discuss the Moore case - she was here to talk about Elliot. She rubbed a hand over the front of her face from the sheer frustration of it all and let out the breath she was holding. She wasn't strong enough for this, she was crippling by the second, losing the merciless fight she'd spent 12 long years battling.

"What do you want me to say?" she expelled in a breath hoping he would pick up on the exhaustion in her voice and drop it but if he had, he certainly hadn't granted her any sympathy.

"I want you to be honest with yourself Olivia," he said and she picked up on the irritation from his end, as if he'd been waiting to speak to her like this for years.

The words ticked over in her mind. 'I want you to be honest with _yourself'. _Not with him or with Elliot – but herself. That quite possibly was the most terrifying of all because stifling, suppressing and dismissing was all she'd ever known from the moment her mother picked up that first bottle. She pressed her eyes closed and begged, pleaded with herself not to break, she had come so far and she wasn't going to do this in front of Huang. She'd cried in front of him before but that was for the victims, for the losses, for the toll it had taken on her mentality. This was hers, it was personal - her own weathered feelings for Elliot that she needed to sort out.

"Aren't you tired Liv?"

She must have been transparent as all hell she decided because he saw right through her every time and she realized then why she loathed coming here. Not because it made her feel any less capable as a detective, on the field, with the victims or her squad but because he was the only one who saw through the barriers. He had the ability to crack her stubborn shell and she could do nothing to stop the yolk of truth from oozing out.

She opened her eyes then and she knew, they were wet now and it would be minutes, seconds maybe until that first tear would circle the rim and fall from grace. The lump in her throat was now affecting her ability to respond verbally so she shook her head instead, hoping that he would fill the silence so she wouldn't have to. He just watched her, waiting for her to answer the question he'd posed but all she could focus on was her chest that was now begging for oxygen. Her mouth opened finally and when she tried to speak the sob overpowered anything coherent and that inevitable tear spilled down her cheek.

She dropped her face in her hands because she didn't want him to watch this, the breakdown she'd been suppressing since Sin, or if she was really honest with herself - well before Sin. She pressed her face into her palms while the sound of her sobs and her inability to breathe surrounded her being. Darkness was all she saw and it was the tiniest of comforts because it meant she wasn't looking into Huang's eyes.

She pressed her lips together, trying to control the unsavory sounds racking through her body but that only lessened her opportunity for a breath and suddenly she was gasping for air. She hated herself for this, loathed the pitiful puddle of weakness she'd become. She couldn't have waited until she got home tonight to unleash the floodgates, it just had to happen right now when Huang was diligently taking it all in only to report back to Cragen. She took a deep breath then, at that damaging reminder that this would go further than these four walls and somehow she managed to breathe again. She pulled her face out of her palms, ignored the inevitable mascara trails her breakdown would have left and looked Huang straight in the eyes – her expression suddenly void of emotion. When she finally reigned in her breathing, everything calmed inside her once more and she latched onto the one thing she knew how to do.

Walk away.

**::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**

She didn't go back to the office and she was probably going to lose her job at this point but she just couldn't.

She couldn't deal with Bennett's questions, Elliot's unrelenting presence and Fin's knowing stares. She'd called Cragen and in the calmest voice she could muster requested the rest of the day off so she could get herself in check. She never did that, never freely admitted weakness and took an opportunity to skip work for her sanities sake but today she did.

She started to drive home intent on showering, taking a few sleeping pills and finally getting the rest her body so desperately craved but something pulled at her. When she saw the sign for the local bar she thought about the bottle of scotch that Elliot had so mercilessly tipped out as if he were suggesting she had a problem. She didn't – she knew her limits but every now and then she'd break, because she was only human. Sometimes all she needed was one drink, or a couple, but the differentiating factor that separated her from her mother was that it never truly allowed her escape. She could never completely mask the feelings like her mother could and she never woke up in a pool of her own vomit.

She started with a beer, because it was only just after midday and she didn't want the judgment, even if it would only be from the lone bar tender. It had been cold, refreshing and went down a little too easily so when she ordered her second she made a conscious effort to nurse it for longer.

The pub was nothing special and aspects of it reminded her of the Brewhouse in D.C. where she'd followed Silverman that night. She almost wished that he was here now, sitting beside her so they could both discuss how fucked up their worlds had become - only he would trump her every time because he'd lost his world when he fell in love with his partner. She pulled at her bottom lip with her finger, lingering on the memory and wondered if his partner was still out there and what damning hell she would be experiencing in the horrific confines of Iran. Her inability to help continued to gnaw at her and she took a long draw of her beer telling herself that she couldn't save the world. If she couldn't save Emily - she certainly couldn't save Silverman's partner.

She'd often thought about what it would be like to pursue a life in the bureau, the curiosity peaked her interest during her undercover stint with Dana and then rapidly inclined the day Porter and Terri dodged the bullet due to that heightened national security bull. The power, the control and the worth she'd encompass – she wouldn't have to watch Cragen bend over and take it when the feds slam their case to a screeching halt. She'd get to be the prick that waltzes in there and tells them _their_ hands are tied and that _their_ feelings don't matter. Her whole world would be the job, even more so than it is now and she wouldn't have to focus on the insignificant things in life, like the way her married partner used to look at her for just that moment too long or how her flesh would ignite when his body accidently gazed past hers. She wouldn't have time to stop and assess how lonely and trivial her life had become because before she knew it, it would be over. Just like Porter's, just like Silverman's and then finally she'd get to fulfill that overwhelming urge to be free.

But this was reality she had to keep reminding herself and she what she did day-to-day did matter; the victim's needed her just as much as she needed the victims. Besides whose to say she'd find happiness in a corrupt, bureaucratic organization like the FBI anyway. She'd still feel the of weight of failure, that sharp tug of the reigns being tightened and if her partner was _anything _like Elliot, she was sure she'd still find time in the darkest part of the night to linger on the unattainable.

As she neared the end of her second beer she loathed herself for indulging in this pity party because it could have been_ her_ she kept reminding herself. It could have been her wagon, her fate, her life that had been cast to an eternity in Iran. She needed to appreciate that she still had her world, her freedom, her partner –_ damn it. _Elliot, she still had Elliot in her life even if he wasn't her partner she still had him and last night she had him in her bed. _Fuck._ She still couldn't allow herself to believe it or mull on it too much, it was almost like a dream, a fantasy, her imagination. _No – _it had been real, no dream could make her body respond the way his hands could.

She thought about his hands then, those beautiful, strong, relentless hands that rendered her body completely submissive to him. He hadn't even kissed her last night, he kept his lips, his mouth, his tongue hostage making the urge only greater from the restraint. She could feel the alcohol settling into her system, relaxing her senses and she wanted to kiss him again. To feel his mouth pry hers open, his tongue sliding in and to hear that raspy grunt rip from the back of his throat as her tongue meets his. She wants him to kiss her, to touch her and _fuck_ she wants him naked because she hasn't even seen all of him yet. She wants the rough, firm and demanding man from the alley but she also wants the soft and attentive guy from last night. She wants so much from him it petrifies her because what she has to give in return pales in comparison.

She didn't order a third beer, instead she left the pub and walked the two streets until she hit the leafy greens of Central Park. She walked then, through the familiar cement walk ways, taking in the foliage, the fresh air, the children with their families, women jogging, allowing herself to experience the wonders of the park. Not as a detective who focused on the horrors it had previously encountered but as a woman on a quest to feel free.

When the sun began to set across the park she finally made her way back to her car. As she passed a row of restaurants and eateries she caught a whiff of the intertwined flavors and her stomach started to rumble. It was then that she realized in her daze that she hadn't actually eaten today.

She'd chose a modest Chinese restaurant where the patrons were so animated no one noticed her sitting quietly at her table for one. She ordered the mooshoo pork, a glass of red and tried to ignore the pang of disappointment that she wouldn't be able to trade half way with Elliot. She took her time, subtly observing the families and the couples enjoying their dinner conversation and wondered if she'd every feel that comfortable.

When she finally decided to call it a night the waiter brought the check over and placed it on her table with a polite smile. As she reached for her wallet her eyes couldn't help but settle on the small presumptuous cookie that sat idle in the tray.

**::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**

It was late when she finally got home and her heart rate ascended when she saw him, sitting on her stoop – just waiting for _her_.

Ordinarily she'd be annoyed, shake her head at his inability to recognize when she needed space and honor it but she couldn't move past the fact that he had not only come for her, but that he'd waited.

His legs were braced on the steps below and his hands were clasped in his lap. He looked comfortable, like he'd happily wait all night for her. He didn't smile when he saw her but she registered the flicker his eyes made at her presence.

She approached him slowly, cautiously almost until finally she settled on perching herself on the steps. She purposefully left a body space between them and he'd noticed. She mirrored his stance with her hands clasped before her, forearms on her knees and suddenly it was four ears ago and he was telling her that he'd signed the divorce papers. The only thing missing was the coffee she'd brought him as a peace offering.

_I'm the longest relationship you've ever had with a man._

She shivered at the memory because it still rang true and if she were honest with herself she knew that would be a constant in her life that would never change. That night she had asked him if they were ok and she had been petrified of the answer - now she got the overwhelming feeling that he was about to ask her the same thing.

A few moments ticked between them as she looked straight ahead at the passerby's who were ambling towards their building on the opposite side of the road.

"Where've you been?" he asked breaking the silence and there was no accusation there, just curiosity and a hint of concern.

Her gaze dropped down to her interlaced fingers and her thumbs wrestled against each other tirelessly. "Just out." She gave him, because the details of where weren't important. He was looking ahead and not at her and a part of her was thankful that she didn't have his gaze to deal with right now, just his questions.

"Everything ok?" he asked despite already knowing the answer and she closed her eyes, the lump in her throat immediately forming. _No._

_You need to talk to him._

It was Huang's voice in her head now and instead of her automatic response to suppress the honestly she somehow managed to vocalize the long overdue question that had kept her up for the past 7 months.

"What happened with Kathy El?" her voice had been quiet and although things were considerably different between them now she was still generally concerned for him as a friend. She just hated herself and her selfish reasons for not asking him sooner.

She heard the strained exhale beside her and knew he hadn't expected that nor did he want to talk about it. She wanted to tell him he wasn't alone, she didn't want to be discussing this either but if they didn't, it would only continue to gnaw at them.

"Liv," he began and immediately from the tone she knew he was on the defensive. "Don't."

Her eyes widened in surprise at his request for her to drop it. She'd wished Huang was here right now because this illustrated perfectly every reason why she didn't open up with Elliot - a little hard when the other party doesn't want to have a bar of. She pulled her bottom lip between hers and bit down slightly until she generated enough strength to try again.

"I need to know," she said slowly and even she was shocked by her candidness because it was an admission - for this to go any further she needed to know.

A painful silence invaded their moment and she wondered if he'd shoot her down again or if he'd actually give her something in return this time. The confusion was overwhelming and she couldn't understand why it was so hard for him. This wasn't new, four years ago he'd opened up to her about Kathy, about the reasons that pulled them apart, about his self-doubt as a husband.

_That's why I signed the divorce papers, I didn't want Kathy to ever regret me._

Now however, she could feel something had changed significantly, something was off and it scared the hell out of her. He took long, drawn out, painful moments before he spoke.

"I just," he began and in the same breath, "couldn't do it anymore." It was a half assed response and he knew it, she felt cheated and dismissed by his response. He was a terrible liar when it came to his personal life and she deserved more than that.

"What couldn't you do anymore?" she pressed, because she knew it had to be something else, something other than dealing with the fighting, the job, the late nights, the kids.

He was running his hands up and down the thighs of his pant legs now and she could practically feel the tension that was tightening every muscle in his body. It overwhelmed her at how closed off he was right now and the body length between them didn't help.

"El?" She tried to nudge him gently with her voice but all she got in return was an exaggerated sigh.

Her thumbs stopped their frantic fidgeting and she felt the pull to touch him, to slide closer and grasp his forearm reassuringly as if that may somehow help him open up to her. Without a clear reason she didn't move or perhaps it was the risk he'd recoil from her touch that was too much to bear.

"Where did you go tonight?" he repeated his question from earlier and she scoffed under her breath, her short nails digging into the skin of her hands.

"Out Elliot - why won't you talk to me?" The frustration escaped through her gritted teeth and she turned, taking in the side of his face as he continued to stare ahead. When he didn't answer or even attempt to look her way, she shook her head moments from standing up because this was pointless. She had realized a world of change had happened in the past four years and now he was a solid brick wall.

"What is so different this time?" she practically yelled and she was gearing herself up for a fight because he didn't seem to be responding without one. She was still looking at the side of his face when he turned, their eyes locking in place. Her stomach dropped with what she saw in his eyes, a truth, _the_ truth about to be pummeled into her.

"You," he practically shouted and his response made her dizzy. He looked pissed, angry as all hell and it threw her through a loop, the confusion must have been clearly evident in her eyes because he was shaking his head at her. "Fuck Olivia," he yelled in frustration, "Do I have to spell it out?"

Her mouth parted and if she weren't so blindsided right now she would have abused him for speaking to her like that but she was trying to piece together what he was telling her. She wanted to look away because the way he was looking at her right now made it hard for her to catch her breath.

"It was different because of you Olivia," his voice was loud and she could see his fists clenching in his lap and the cynical part of her refused to believe what he appeared to be telling her.

"What did I do?" she yelled back in defense matching his aggravation and he laughed then, a sarcastic, cocky laugh before he looked away shaking his head.

"Nothing, Olivia, you did nothing," he mumbled as he continued to look out into the night, "and that was the problem." He was no longer yelling.

She was slowly getting it, her heart was thumping in her chest now and she still didn't want to believe it. Was he really telling her he wanted her to initiate something earlier, before Sin, before the divorce papers? Her mouth opened and then closed again as she tried to figure out what she was supposed to say to that. How the hell he expected her to respond to his blatant confession.

"What are you telling me Elliot?" she said with intense but controlled frustration because she still wasn't exactly sure. "In black and white," she demanded.

She noticed the way his muscles strained beneath his clothing at the lack of comprehension he was receiving from her but she wanted him to be clear, no more skirting around the issue - she wanted to hear it straight.

Without looking in her direction his mouth opened slowly and she tried desperately to calm her heart rate down because it was in her ears now and she needed to hear this.

"I tried with Eli, I really did," he began softly and the volume was a world away from the shouting match she'd just encountered. He still wasn't looking at her but it didn't matter because he was finally talking. "It was a second chance to go back and right some wrongs with Kathy, alleviate the guilt, start over, rekindle what we once had…" his voice trailed off and she pushed her hands between her knees and just listened, as hard as it was to hear, she was content that he was finally opening up to her.

"I got home for diaper duty, I avoided the late nights," he told her slowly. "I did everything a husband was supposed to do." He told her letting out a pained sigh. "But I guess... eventually I realized," he started, his voice suddenly decibels quieter, "the job was never the issue Liv."

She needed to breathe, just open her mouth so she could catch a breath because suddenly she felt faint. She watched the side of his face as he stared intently at his hands and all she wanted to do was look away because it was all too much. Her eyes had become fixated on the side of his face and out of pure necessity she allowed her chest to rise and her lungs to fill with much needed oxygen. She was still trying to figure out if she had this right, was he really telling her he'd left his wife of 20 plus years because of her. Seven whole months ago - without so much as a damn word about it.

"Say something," he said quietly. The nerves spread through her body like wildfire and despite the fact that it was warm out she shivered against the night air.

He'd just opened up to her, more than she'd ever expected he would have and suddenly she had been rendered mute. Her mouth opened a couple of times but dear God the words weren't forming and she didn't want to misstep in this moment. Instead she picked absently at her cuticles, searching for the words, all the while her eyes never leaving his face.

"That night with Bushido," he broke the silence and she was grateful that he was continuing because it meant she didn't have to. "Then watching you kiss Stuckey…" his words trailed off and she closed her eyes. "The moment Rojas had that gun to your head and that fuck Porter nearly cost me everything," he rubbed a hand over his face before he finally looked across at her. "All moments in time where I'd go home, have sex with my wife," his eyes dipped down to her lips, "and I'd think of..."

The pang of hurt sliced through her heart and she didn't want to hear this, or picture this or want this in her head. The more he told her, the less she wanted to hear and it was her own fault for forcing him to open up to her. She wondered if she stood up right now, walked into her apartment and left him on her stoop if he'd ever speak to her again.

She looked away, because she couldn't stand the eye contact he now seemed intent on holding and she focused instead on the scuffmarks on her shoes.

"I couldn't go on like that," he whispered. "It wasn't fair to anyone."

She was silent, still mute and she could tell he wasn't impressed by her lack of participation in this conversation but what the hell was she supposed to say to that? Telling her he'd pictured her while he was fucking his wife wasn't exactly a hallmark card.

"Say something Olivia," his voice was back to an increased volume and she rubbed the back of her neck anxiously before throwing her hands up in defeat.

"What do you want me to say?" she pressed defensively, still unable to move past the confession that produced all sorts of confusing and unwanted images.

"Tell me what you're thinking," he answered as if it were obvious, "tell me I wasn't alone."

That snapped her out of her daze and she turned to face him then, her eyes widening at his brash assumption but he was ready for it.

"You gonna deny it?" he said with an unconvinced look on his face. She could tell he knew she'd say something to belittle the situation and trivialize it into something a lot less easier to swallow but again he was ready.

"Olivia, I know you want me," he said with no cockiness whatsoever, just with cold, honest conviction. "You wanted me in your bed last night, in the alley that night, at Sin.." he reminded her as if she might have forgotten how all this had all started. "And I know you want me now."

Her heart thumped wildly and suddenly she was regretting the body space she'd left between them because it meant he couldn't reach out and touch her. All of his accusations rang true and there was no point in denying him. There was however that lingering question that would forever gnaw at her if she didn't voice it right now. She sucked in a breath before forming the words on her lips that he was still involuntarily staring at.

"Do you even miss your partner?" her voice had been soft but her words were laced in accusation, she couldn't hide the anguish at the thought that he could move on so easily.

His eyes flicked up to hers and his eyebrows drew together in confusion. At first she thought he was going to ask her to explain herself but his uncertainty was now morphing into a deep seeded irritation.

"Of course I do," he stabbed as if she were ridiculous for even proposing he didn't. That angered her because it damn well didn't feel like it.

"So it doesn't bother you that you choose sex over our partnership?" she stabbed back, knowing what that would do to him but still shaking her head at him in disbelief.

"You think this is just sex," he looked at her bewildered.

"I don't really know what this is," she told him honestly, the annoyance still evident. She had found her voice and was now going to make up for its absence. "It just would have been nice to have a say in the matter before you decided it was worth the trade." Her words riled him and she could see in his eyes that he was not going to take it lying down.

"Jesus Olivia, _I_ made the decision?" he half laughed out of shock. "After what went down at Sin, _you_ made that decision." He pushed the blame right back at her, refusing to budge on the issue. She was blinking at him rapidly now, the tension streaming into her fingertips, making them curl over in anger.

His eyes probed hers and his mouth parted, his voice now suddenly deeper and more controlled. "Why don't _you_ start being honest with _me _and tell me why you let things get so out of hand."

She cleared her throat. "I already told you, to save your-"

"Liv," he scoffed, cutting her off bitterly, "you were moaning, begging me to touch you," he reminded her before she got too far into her denial and she felt her cheeks flush involuntarily. She saw it then, something register in his eyes as if a thought had suddenly occurred to him and she held her breath. "Tell me something," he said with a knowing consideration that made her heart slam fiercely against her rib cage. "Would it have gone down differently had I been wearing my ring?"

Her eyes narrowed at him then and she lost her pitiful grasp on control. "Screw you," she breathed out and because she was weak and he was cruel she was going to walk away from this ambush. She stood up trying not to tremble in her footing but he was already vertical before she had time to create any distance.

When she started to move up the stairs he grabbed the lapel of her leather jacket and pulled her towards him, she jerked in his grasp crashing awkwardly into his chest. Her hands came up to steady herself against the plains of his chest and she pulled back immediately trying to obtain some distance.

"You can't have it all Olivia," he whispered, his lips dangerously close to hers as she swayed on the step, her heart thumping a mile. "So decide what it is you want from me." He rasped, his words full of irritation and underlying desire.

She finally managed to steady herself enough on the steps to jerk out of his grasp, yanking her jacket out of his hold. She dug her hand into her jean pocket and searched for the tiny piece of paper that she knew was about to seal their fate.

He watched her anxiously, tension radiating from his body as she pushed the strip of paper into his chest. As she let go he reached out and grasped it before it flittered to the ground, just watching her in confusion.

"Good night Elliot," she drawled the bitter words and he didn't stop her or even shift when she removed the few steps between him and her building door.

As the door to her building closed behind her she wondered if the message she left Elliot would crush him as hard as it crushed her. With each step a part of her broke until she reached her front door and she was a crumbling mess. Her back hit the solid wood of the door as she slid down into a crippling heap.

When she'd cracked that cookie on her drive home the message rang out to her loud and clear and the irrational part of her had chosen to believe it was fate.

_Some stones are better left unturned._

**TBC**


	8. Chapter 8

Again sorry for the delay but hopefully this chapter will make up for it ::shifty eyes:: Thank you to my amazing beta LeMiSo for your sweet grammatical skills, your twitter company at 4am and your consistent nudges for me to hurry the fuck up :P I also just want to reiterate that this story is very much AC (mature audiences only). Oh and I had a request to make these chapters shorter and more frequent but unless you want Elliot to pull out before he's done they will have to remain as is. ; ) Enjoy! Reviews always welcome : )

**Chapter 8**

It was late and the precinct was quiet; eerie almost.

The sun had recently set behind the blinds and she was tying up paperwork on the Moore case, trying desperately not to focus on what she'd lost but instead on what she'd gained.

_Hank Moore would never be able to hurt another child._

Fin had left early to have dinner with his son and Bennett was in the locker room - or maybe he'd stepped out for a bite to eat, she wasn't sure.

She was a shitty partner.

Elliot was at his desk, five or so small strides away from her and she'd felt his eyes on her every now and then burning into her skin, flushing her cheeks and making her eyes water slightly under his scrutiny.

She could have left when Fin had she'd realized, the paperwork could have waited until tomorrow but the truth that she'd never admit was she was still there because he was.

It was fucked up. She'd walked away from him, made it clear the idea of a relationship was too much to comprehend and yet here she was; hanging back after hours like a pathetic school girl loitering after class.

She just needed to be around him she justified, even if he spent half the night looking at her like he wanted to strangle her. Any remote attention negative or otherwise was welcome at this point, because she never could just give him up cold turkey.

She was pathetic.

She dropped her pen once she'd completed the form she was filling out and lent back, stretching her arms over her head until she heard her back and neck crack. When she lent forward she rested her head in her hands briefly before standing up abruptly.

Her eyes flicked incidentally towards him as she picked up the file and made her way over to the copier. She collected the pages she'd printed earlier, slipped them into the manila folder and headed towards the file room. It had been shut up for the day so when she opened the door she had to turn on the light. It flickered momentarily before the bright halogens lit up the room and she squinted against the brightness. She walked over to the categorized cabinets and scanned the outer labels. When she found what she was looking for she reached out and grasped the handle of the cabinet.

_M for Moore._

She heard movement just outside the file room and her hand stilled on the handle, not opening the draw until she was certain it was nothing. When she was met with silence she opened the rickety draw and her fingers skimmed across the alphabetized names.

_Mathers, Manning, Merick-_

She heard it again, a sound just outside the room and she waited a few beats to ascertain if it was just her ears playing tricks on her. When she was only met with stagnant silence she continued on.

_Millings, Mode, Moore._

She slipped the file into it's rightful place trying to ignore the tightness in her chest that something just felt …off.

That's when the light above her went out and suddenly she was encased in a pool of darkness. Her heart started to thump in her chest and she tried to stifle those irrational thoughts that were already surfacing. It was simple Olivia, either they'd lost power or..

She heard the door to the file room click softly close and she could swear her hands were now shaking. All of a sudden she was rendered frozen in place, her feet felt increasingly heavy. When she heard the footsteps approach her from behind she instinctively reached for her weapon tucked securely at her waist. She didn't pull it out of it's holster, she just let her palm splay over it. Waiting…

The only light she could see peaked through the venetian blinds in paper-thin slits. It was enough to ensure her outline would be visible to whoever was approaching her from behind.

Although she was on edge, she didn't feel particularly in danger because a part of her knew that it was him. The footsteps came to a halt behind her and she willed her breathing to control itself because all she could hear in the dark room was her rapid intakes of breath.

She still had her hand on her weapon and she could feel him close now, almost as if his body was a mere inch from contact. She felt the warm breath on the back of her neck and it gave her chills. It was _fucking_ him, she could tell from his labored breathing and the subtle waft of aftershave that was now tickling her nostrils.

She heard the stretch of his business shirt and she knew he was reaching out. She braced herself for his touch but it never came. Instead she jumped slightly at the sound of the filing cabinet beside her drawing to a slow close. The rusty wheels reverberated in her ears and she realized then that she was still holding her breath.

She didn't want him to think she didn't know, that she had even doubted her instincts for a second. She needed to drop her hands from her weapon but it was too late because he was reaching out already and his featherlike touch was encircling her wrist. He pulled her hand away from her gun and let it hang beside her body before releasing it. She would have mulled on the fact that he'd just caught her out on her uncertainty but her heart was thumping so wildly she could barely think straight.

Her mouth was dry, she didn't know exactly what was happening right now but she knew she didn't want it to stop. She felt his palm brush over her upper arm before he squeezed it gently sending shivers soaring through her body. She remained perfectly still as his mouth dropped gently onto the crown of her head. She felt dizzy and short of breath as he nuzzled his nose against her locks and breathed in her scent.

She felt unsteady on her feet and if he weren't holding her, she would have needed to brace herself against something. She should be asking him what the hell he thought he was doing right now but the curiosity and electricity swarming her body overpowered rationality.

His hand slid up her upper arm, over the ridge of her shoulder until his fingers were splaying over her collarbone. When his hands finally closed around the side of her neck he squeezed the sensitive crux where her neck met her shoulder sending shivers throughout her body.

His other hand was now moving, brushing aside her loose hair and she could feel his hot breath directly on her neck. He leaned down pressing his lips firmly against her warm skin and her mouth absently parted as he kissed the sensitive spot.

She bit into her lip when she felt his tongue dart out and trace the patch of skin he'd just kissed and she closed her eyes against the darkness. His mouth ran up to the base of her hairline and he kissed her just behind her ear. She wanted to hum.

Her hands tingled when she felt his fingers encircled her wrists and slowly brought them up, higher.. forward.. until he'd flattened her palms flush against the cabinets in front of her. He let his own hands press against them, coating the back of them. He moved his body against hers, his chest pressing against her back and slowly his lower half moved in until she felt his erection dig into her ass.

A noise escaped her through her open mouth, a quiet gasp that he'd registered because he was subtly rocking into her now and she could feel her body inching slightly forward with each thrust.

She ached to find her voice so she could tell him to stop, or at least attempt to fight this because they were at work, they weren't alone and touching her like this wasn't going to erase her doubts from the other night. But Jesus Christ he was hard, he'd been thinking about her, watching her all night and she wondered if his erection had started beneath his desk.

He felt like granite and his ragged breaths in her ear made her shake because she wanted this just as badly as he did. His hands came off hers and she was almost disappointed but realized quickly they were headed for her hips. His fingers bit into the skin at her waist holding her in place as he pressed himself into her harder, softly groaning into her ear.

She was shaking, _fuck, _her hands were buckling under the pressure and her palms were slick from her rattled nerves. His grip at her waist was now moving, under the material of her sweater until he hit bare flesh and her fingernails pressed into the metal. The higher his hands rose the more material he collected until they stopped just short of underwire.

His chest was pushing into her back and just as his fingers ran across the underside of her bra, her hands buckled under the pressure and slipped down to her sides.

He was pushing into her so hard he nearly rammed her into the cabinets in the process but he managed to stop her just in time. She felt the tension in his body strain at the movement and she swallowed as his hands sought out hers again and placed them rightfully back in position.

"Stay," he rasped throatily into her ear, his palms flattening against hers for effect, ensuring she wouldn't move again. Her heart rate was pummeling into her and she couldn't swallow, or move, or think right now. One hand left the back of hers and grasped the skin of her waist, while the other stayed on top of hers, as if he wasn't going to risk it happening again.

His other returned to it's ascent, sliding up the plains of her stomach and he wasted no time closing his palm over her lace coated breast. She heard his breathing increase as he squeezed her and she bit into her lip trying to justify letting him continue this and failing miserably.

He latched onto her erect nipple and pulled it between his fingers, the friction of the lace adding to the pleasure and her head dropped in front of her as she exhaled heavily. She wouldn't moan, she wouldn't _fucking_ moan, not when Bennett could walk in here at any moment.

He continued to tug at her sensitive nipple and she could tell he wasn't going to be gentle, it was the alley, the dominance, the pool between her legs all over again. Her palm was starting to ache under the pressure of his but she wasn't moving, she'd bare the ache if it meant his fingers kept up their assault on her nipple.

His thumb swiped across the hardened nub once, twice and when her moan involuntarily escaped her he groaned pushing his erection firmly into her. But he'd been too rough because she lost her footing in the motion and fell forward, her forehead connecting with the cabinets with a thud.

"Jesus," he grunted in her ear. "I'm sorry," he whispered pulling her back a little so she was no longer face planting. Somehow she'd managed to keep her palms flattened in the process and there was just a slight tingling where her head had connected.

"You should be," she grumbled, her tone emanating both annoyance and arousal.

His lips smoothed across the shell of her ear as his free hand latched onto her belt buckle. "I'll make it up to you," he whispered, his thumb sliding into the leather, pulling it out of it's capture. Her mind spun.

_The precinct. Bennett. Their conversation._

She used her free hand quickly to grasp his wrist and she was shaking because she didn't want to fucking say the words.

"We can't," she said breathless and the moment they escaped her lips she regretted it because it was a poor choice of words. His hand stilled underneath hers and his lips brushed against her ear and she was panicking that he was about to take it the wrong way. "Not here," she said in a rush, quickly correcting herself before he spoke, explaining that it was just the location she was refusing.

She felt his lips curl into a smile against her and she knew then she had given him the green light in one way or another, she wasn't going to fight him on sex. Anything else however, was no guarantee.

"Why not?" he whispered, rocking his erection earnestly into her as if to illustrate his reluctance to wait. She pressed her lips together, his hand still flattened against her belt buckle and then she wondered if they could really do this here.

"Bennett," she whispered and without realizing it she was rubbing her ass into his crotch subconsciously.

He breathed out, the warm air heating her neck and his hand slipped from her belt buckle, lower until he was smoothing over the front of her jeans. He rubbed her, the flat of his palm pressing against her core and she moved herself against him, a rush of wetness pooling between her legs.

"I tell you what," Elliot breathed against her, rocking himself into her as he continued to rub between her legs. "Option 1," he whispered slowly, his tongue trailing the ridge of her ear. "You go home," he murmured, "and take off all your clothes." The thought made her dizzy. "Leave the door unlocked and when I find you," he murmured, his hand moving firmly up her stomach and towards her breast. "I'm going to trail my tongue over every square inch of your body." His thumb brushed over her nipple. "Starting with these." She groaned as a pang of pleasure hit her hard between her legs and she pushed her ass instinctively into his crotch. "Then I'm going to spread your legs," he groaned breathing heavily into her ear, "and flick my tongue across your-"

"Stop," she whispered weakly, her head dropping against the cool metal of the lockers as she attempted to catch her breath. She knew what he was doing, he was turning her on to the point where she'd give in and let him take her right here and now.

"Option 2." He let his hand trail back down to her belt buckle and continue to slide it open. "I pull down your jeans right now," he whispered as his hand unfastened the button and slid the zipper down. "And your panties," he whispered hotly, sliding his fingers into the front of her jeans, across the lace, discovering the liquid ache she had for him. "And bend you over," he said pushing two fingers through the material and into the dampness.

"Fuck," she choked and she wasn't sure if she'd cursed from his words or his fingers. What the hell did he just say? She didn't care because she was already incidentally spreading her legs as far as her tight jeans would allow and he was teasing her, pushing at her entrance through the material.

"What'll it be," he whispered, rubbing two fingers firmly across her clit causing her head to roll against the cool metal. She'd realized her arms that were still planted on the cabinets had bent so far at the elbows that she was now practically flush up against it. She had already forgotten which number was which.

"Take them off," she whispered so quietly she wasn't sure if he'd even heard her, but she got her answer when his hand moved out of her jeans and latched onto the sides. He needed both hands so he released her other and she flexed it against the metal to alleviate the stiffness. He pulled her jeans down her thighs and the cool air hit her bare skin. She toed off her shoes as he continued to drag her jeans down until they were completely off. He kicked them to the side and moved his body back up hers. She expected him to discard her panties just as quickly but he surprised her by grasping her upper arm and spinning her around. She faced him for the first time since he'd entered and the slits of light shone behind him. Her eyes were still adjusting to the darkness and as a result his face was still shadowed in darkness.

He moved forward, until she was flush up against the wall of cabinets and she felt cornered, prayed upon, but incredibly aroused in anticipation.

Her ass hit the cold metal, then her shoulder blades as he pressed her firmly against the metal, his grip encasing her upper arms. He moved in, until his mouth was tracing the ridge of her jawbone and she tried to relax but every nerve in her body was heightened. The dampness between her legs was now a physical ache and she yearned to turn around again so he'd just take her like he'd promised.

She'd have to be patient she realized because he now seemed distracted with her face, neck and mouth. His lips ran across her cheek and goosebumps crawled up the back of her neck. When his mouth brushed across hers something inside her snapped and she turned, abruptly so she was facing to the side. His lips settled against her cheek and she felt the tension in his body mount as his fingers tightened around her upper arms.

He waited, breathy and for what she didn't know. He tried again, moving across until his lips lined up with hers attempting to capture her lower lip between his but she jerked away. She pushed her lower half against him in an effort to avoid his mouth. She didn't want the distraction of a kiss right now, all she wanted was a good, hard, fuck.

He sighed in frustration and because he was a stubborn son of a bitch he took one hand off her upper arm and grasped her face, holding in place. He pressed a thumb against her cheek and let his remaining fingers encircle the back of her neck.

He moved his mouth back to hers, their noses touching briefly as he hung there, waiting for permission; waiting for her to give in and open her mouth to him. She didn't and for a deeper reason unbeknownst to her she wouldn't.

He leaned forward a little and brushed his lips against hers, testing the waters and she didn't flinch. He tried again, this time attempting to press his lips against hers for longer but she recoiled, sinking further back against the metal.

His other palm came up and slammed forcibly against the cabinet beside her head and she jumped, rattled by his unexpected eruption.

"Kiss me goddamn it," he rasped and she was pissed at him for being so boisterous but couldn't help but revel in the way his temper turned her on.

"No," she breathed when she felt she had her voice under control. "Turn me around," she demanded. Two could play at that game and she wanted some of this control he'd seem so intent on acquiring.

His forehead fell against hers then and his thumb swiped across her flushed cheek, he wedged a knee between her legs and parted them, the top of his thigh pushing up against her core and she called out.

He used her open mouth to an advantage and his lips crashed against hers, drawing her lower lip into his mouth and sucking. She let him, for just a second before she wretched her mouth away from his and he groaned in frustration.

"Open your mouth," he whispered against her lips and there was no request there, just a cold, sexual demand and because she knew she had just as much control over what would happen in this file room, she pushed harder.

"Turn me around," she repeated, almost too calmly and she heard a laugh, and it was bitter and full of frustration. He was nearing the end of this tether.

The thumb that had been holding her cheek in place brushed forcibly over her lower lip until her mouth parted slightly and he pressed his mouth against hers. She voiced her distaste for his blatant disregard and started to fight it, shifting her hips against him, his mouth muffling her protests. When he rammed his thigh against her core her mouth opened in reflex and she moaned low and guttural as his tongue slid into her mouth. His kissed was hard and unforgiving and she felt his teeth clamp down on her lower lip. She wretched away to catch her breath but couldn't move her lips too far from his in this position.

"Screw you," she whispered breathy, her lips brushing his in the process and they both breathed in each other's air. She reveled in the way she was driving him all kinds of wild because the son of a bitch deserved every minute of it.

He waited only beats for her to catch her breath before his lips crashed back on hers, opening her mouth with his and this time she let him. Her head lolled against the metal as he ransacked her mouth but she did her hardest not to give him anything in return. His tongue was in her mouth, eager and demanding but when he realized she wasn't cooperating he pulled back. Pulling her top lip into his mouth and sucking before he broke off the kiss entirely. She could just make out his eyes now, the darkness making the blue irises appear jet black. He watched him in his heated frenzy.

"Tongue Olivia," he breathed between them, his hold on her face urging her mouth forward, closer to his lips. "I want your tongue in my mouth," his grating words caused a rush of heat to spread through her belly towards the inevitable pool between her thighs.

He nipped at her lower lip then and she didn't have the willpower to deny herself any longer so she moved her free hand behind his neck and pulled him against her open mouth. She kissed him forcibly and he responded with a low growl that was muffled by her mouth. She let her tongue trail his lower lip and as his fingers dug into the skin of her upper arm she knew she'd be bruised tomorrow.

She tilted her head to gain better access to his mouth and slid her tongue forcibly between his lips. He groaned at her compliance and let her continue to explore his mouth. She flicked her tongue against the tip of his and she felt his hand slip from her upper arm until he was bunching the side of her panties into his fist and tugging downward.

He hummed against her lips as her hands reached out and grasped his own belt buckle and he let her unclasp, unbutton and unzip him. He nipped at her lips and suddenly she was slipping her hand into his briefs and over the firm, thick, length of him. He groaned when she stroked him and he began to rock himself firmly into her hand.

Her panties were somewhere around her upper thighs and he bent down to yank them to the floor. When she stepped out of them he pulled his pants and briefs down in one quick motion and left them lazily around his ankles. He grabbed her then, by the hips and raised her slightly as he attempted to wedge her legs apart with his knee. Her hands came out grasping his forearms and stopping him abruptly, sliding back down to her feet.

He was about to question her when she turned around and pulled her sweater over her head. When she didn't turn back around she could feel his breathing increase at what she was implying and chills broke out across her flesh. She waited, impatiently and all she could hear was his ragged breath that was heating the back of her neck. He must have been eying the clasp on her bra because when he finally touched her, his fingers were slipping beneath it and pulling it open.

His hands came up and smoothed over her shoulders, collecting the straps, sliding them down her arms. When he pulled her bra away completely the lace scraped against her nipples and they peaked against the friction.

She could hear him behind her still not touching her aching body and her patience was wearing thin. She heard a rustling and a clunk and she figured he must have been toeing off his shoes and kicking his pants off.

When he finally stilled she felt his hands grasping her wrists and planting them up against the metal once more. Her body stirred in anticipation. His palms covered hers when he moved in close she felt his bare chest scrape against her bare back and she wanted to melt. He was naked, behind her, and she could feel his erection prodding her ass cheeks as he edged her closer towards the cabinets. She sucked in a breath when she felt her nipples scrape across the cold metal, goosebumps exploding over her body. His hands smoothed over her forearms, her upper arms, across her shoulders and then slowly down the sides of her torso lingering at the sides of her breasts.

His cock was prodding incidentally between her cheeks and she tried to summon control when his hands slid from the sides of her breasts to the front. The firm pads of his fingers ran purposefully over her nipples and she breathed out against the metal as he rubbed and tweaked them.

His mouth latched onto her shoulder and pressed into the skin before he let his teeth drag across her flesh biting into her. She groaned as he pinched her nipples and her ass bucked against him in reflex. She felt him smile against her shoulder as he continued to pull the nubs between his thumb and forefinger.

"El," she murmured and he must have heard the desperation in her voice because she needed him lower or she'd loose it. She shifted her ass against him, hoping he'd get the message. His hands began to descend down her body and she braced herself for those fingers she so desperately craved.

He let one settle on her hip, holding her in place while the other ran across her abdomen stopping just short of her pelvis. Her eyes opened when his hand came off her stomach completely and she waited…anxiously. Then she felt his knee push between her legs and spread them slowly, the cool air hitting the moisture between them.

Seconds from repeating her plea she felt his hand brush across the underside of her ass cheek and she held her breath. His hand cupped her cheek and squeezed gently before he moved his hand, hovering between her open legs. When she felt two fingers slide across her slick folds from behind her forehead crashed against the metal cabinet and she groaned a little too loudly. His fingertips at her waist bit into her skin as he continued to stroke her, spreading her juices with each motion.

He rubbed her back and forth and she met him eagerly, grinding herself against his fingers. There was no grace, she wasn't demure, her inhibitions were shot to hell because she needed this release so badly. She had to be quiet which was an injustice because the pleasure that was streaming through her right now deserved vocal recognition and he wasn't even inside her yet.

A few beats passed before he began to press at her entrance and suddenly he was slipping two fingers into her from behind. She settled for a deep exhale and a loan groan as he slowly began to fill her. The noise that ripped from his throat rivaled hers and she silently pleaded with him to lower his voice. There was no way in hell she could deal with an interruption right now.

His hand at her waist started to descend until he was cupping her from the front. She held her breath as two fingers sought out her clit, pressing against it as he pushed into her from behind. She choked on her sob and begged her body not to climax just yet because she wanted him inside her for that moment. She could feel his urgency against her ass cheek and somehow she managed to grasp his forehand, attempting to pull it from the sensitive bundle of nerves.

He didn't let her, instead he increased the pressure on her clit, rubbing, as he continued to thrust into her from behind. She made a noise, she'd been vocal but it had been incoherent. Instead of correcting herself she reached behind until she seized his cock and she stroked him, urging him towards her entrance.

"Now," she groaned and her voice cracked.

That was all he needed, because he'd been ready the whole time, hell he was probably ready beneath his desk, stroking himself while he watched her work.

He slipped his fingers out of her and grasped both hips and she felt her slickness where he held her. He urged her forward and began to spread her legs with his knees. He moved in, the tip of his cock pushing between her folds, sliding against the wetness. He kept trying to maneuver himself so he'd slip inside her from behind but the angle wasn't right and he kept sliding over her, knocking her clit. She groaned regardless and it felt like they were drunk, so caught up in the heat and the passion but basically unable to fuck. His frustration was mounting as he tried to guide himself into her but it was proving to be a lost cause. His damp fingers were gripping onto her hip, trying to position her accordingly but failing.

"Fuck," he whispered in frustration. "Bend over," he rasped and her heart pummeled at the authority in his voice. She licked her lips trying to figure out where the fuck she was supposed to bend with a row of filing cabinets in front of her. He saved her from having to figure that out by leading her by the hips, a few steps further into the room. Her breath caught when her upper thighs came in contact with something hard and cold. A table.

She closed her eyes, she was aroused, nervous and anxious all at once. His chest coated her back as his hands encircled her in a backwards bear hug and she swallowed as his lips pressed into the back of her neck. He bit into her gently at first and then with a little more vigor, she bucked against him as he released her skin, lapping up the roughened patch with his tongue. He was marking her, he owned her and fuck he was the only man in the world she'd ever give that power.

"You make me so fucking hot Liv," he whispered into her ear, not letting up on his iron grip for a second. She felt her knees start to buckle and found it hard to breathe in his embrace. "I can't control myself when I'm around you," he growled and she smiled to herself because that's the last thing she wanted.

She pressed her ass back into his cock because she didn't have words from him right now, she just wanted to feel him lose that control. He loosened his grip on her and prodded her forward bending her over until her hands came in contact with the cool surface of the metal table. She shivered.

She felt him trail his lips down the length of her spine before he straightened up and grasped her hips. She shivered as he prodded her legs apart with his knees. This was wrong and all kinds of messed up but the only fuck that she gave was the one she was about to receive.

She felt his tip at her entrance and she closed her eyes, her elbows buckling wildly under the pressure. His grip on her hips loosened slightly until it almost felt like a feather light touch as he thumbed her hips, urging her to relax. It was just Elliot.

Elliot about to fuck her up against a table.

When she managed to get her breathing under control she sank herself gently backward, bumping his cock and she heard the low moan from above. He then started to rub himself between her folds, not penetrating just sliding in a slick rhythm, brushing her clit. They both let a groan escape in union.

When he located her entrance and began to slowly fill her, she breathed out digging her short nails against the metal. He was being gentle, but she didn't want gentle – not when she was bent over a table in their _fucking_ file room. She blocked it out, the location, the tawdriness of it all, she just focused on the fact that he was finally inside her again.

His hands held her lightly at the hips as he started to gently rock into her and she could tell he was holding back for her sake. Most likely blindsided by the fact that she'd encouraged this. In an effort to ease his concerns she backed into him with a thrust and he filled her by default. His fingers tightened on her hips from the motion before they relaxed again and continued to move slowly into her. She bit into her lip, he wasn't getting it so she pushed back, once – twice, harder and he started to increase his rhythm to match her thrusts until they were both moving at a steady pace. She could hear his moans now and she was stifling hers and she wanted to tell him to shut the hell up or this wouldn't end well. The pleasure was building inside her as he thrust steadily into her but she still wanted more - she needed him to take her.

"Harder," she whispered and her stomach dropped because she'd actually said it when she didn't think she'd have the courage. She felt a tinge of hesitation from above before he began to increase the pressure heightening his motions. He dragged her back a little in an effort to fill her more completely and she felt his short nails dig into her flesh. He was thrusting into her now, hard and fast and she couldn't stifle her moans as he continued to pummel into her. Noises were escaping her and they were coming out between her short, sharp pants and breaths. It was skin on skin and it was loud, slick and in rhythm with their frantic pace.

_Fuck. _

She prayed that Bennett had gone home because surely he'd be hearing this right now. She realized however that she didn't care – let the guy walk in on them and get a harsh reality check. She didn't give a fuck.

Elliot was moving now she'd noted, from his vertical stance behind her, bending down until his chest coated her back. His hands slid down her clammy arms until his palms flattered over the backs of her hands. He'd slowed down considerably in their revised position and his fingers entwined in hers. She could feel the slick sheen of perspiration that existed between their bodies and his lips latched onto the ridge of her shoulder.

He rocked into her so gently she felt like she was drugged, dreaming or light headed. The pleasure was still there in short, brief, momentary bursts – as methodical as a heartbeat. Her palms were buckling under both their weight now but she kept them steady as his tongue trailed across the saltiness of her skin. She wanted it rough and he'd complied but now seemed to be making up for it with slow, sensual, languid motions. She closed her eyes and for one brief moment she wondered if he'd ever done anything like this with Kathy, the concept seemed so foreign she could only assume he hadn't. It wasn't something she had made a habit of doing but there was something about Elliot's temper that made her want him to loose his control with her.

His hands came up her body as he continued to rock ever so gently into her core and she moaned as his hands ran over her breasts and he cupped them. He was gentle and soothing matching the rhythm of his cock and she felt dizzy. When a hand shifted from her breast to between her legs she chocked on a sob as he rubbed the hard pad of his thumb against her clit. _Fuck._ She writhed beneath him, arching her back as she pushed urgently into him, he tweaked her nipple at the same time as he thumbed her clit and she lost stability, her out stretched hands slipping out from under her. He was quick and he'd saved her from face planting into the table but her mind was spinning and she was having trouble getting oxygen.

Her arms were now outstretched on the table as she rested her forehead against the metal because she didn't have the energy to hold them both up. He was still rocking into her ever so gently and she needed him to put her out of a misery because this was all too much.

"Harder Elliot," she groaned, the metal of the table muffling her frustration. She felt him tense on top of her before stilling completely and her heart began to thump anxiously because she knew something wrong. He rose up then and slipped out of her gently but awkwardly causing her to wince and falter in her footing. He grasped her forearm and turned her around to meet him face to face. She was upright now, they were both naked, sticky and the whole room smelt of sex. She felt dizzy.

His grip hadn't let up on her upper arm and he was eyeing her with a little too much irritation - irritation that would only prolong this orgasm she was going to _fucking_ have.

"Why," he asked her in a strained whisper and she wasn't sure why he was so pissed when all she'd requested was more intensity. "Cause then you don't have to feel anything?"

The penny dropped and she swallowed.

_Fuck him._

He was waiting for her to answer but she wasn't going to give him one, words right now were not happening. This conversation was not happening. She moved in closer, her hand skimming down the side of his waist and her lips wavered close to his, hoping he'd take that as his answer. As her tongue darted out and skimmed across his lower lip he pulled back. He wanted words, not actions. She ached. Screw him for coming in here, playing the man-handling prick and then suddenly turning the tables.

She narrowed her eyes at him in the darkness. "You came in here to fuck me Elliot," she reminded him through gritted teeth. "So do it."

The fight must have left him because he was pushing her now, firmly back towards the table, her upper thighs knocked into the metal and he moved her down until she was horizontal. The cold slab of metal hit her back making her nipples harden from the chill and he was climbing on top of her, moving his hips between her legs. She groaned as he sunk into her without hesitation and her arms came up behind her to grip the lip of the table as he began to thrust into her. His mouth latched onto her nipple and she called out as his tongue swirled, flicked and sucked. She was way too audible and he must have known it because his mouth wretched off her nipple and closed over her lips muffling her cries. He sucked on her lower lip as he pushed harder into her and she didn't need to tell him to go faster, or harder or rougher because it was the perfect amount.

Her legs wrapped around his waist and she dug her heals into his upper thighs forcing him to sink deeper into her. He groaned into her mouth as he filled her and she wretched her lips away from his so she could catch her breath. She could hear the short, sharp jolt of the table moving as he continued to pummel into her repeatedly. Lord knows if anyone were around they wouldn't have a hope in hell from hiding this.

She was losing fight, she was close and from the short, sharp rasps in her ear she knew he was too. He grabbed her hands that were still gripping to the table and intertwined his fingers in hers, planting their clasped hands beside her head as he continued to drive into her. She wanted to tell him then, that this wasn't just about a good hard fuck in the file room, he needed to know that she'd die if after this there was nothing. But the words weren't forming, the pleasure was mounting and out of nowhere a lone tear had slipped down the side of her temple and into her matted hair below.

His lips found the base of her ear and she braced herself because although she could never find the words she knew he always could. His voice had been breathy and weak and it pushed her forcibly over the brink, spiraling into the earth shattering orgasm.

"I'm yours."

When her eyes snapped open again it was complete darkness. She wasn't on a cold metal table she was lying in warmth and softness. She was on her back panting, throbbing and the evidence of her orgasm lay slick between her legs. Her arms were tucked under the pillow and when she tried to move them they were restrained by the weight of her head.

_What the?_

She felt light headed, she was still catching her breath and when she shifted her erect nipples scraped against the ribbed material of her tank top. Tank top? What the hell? She was naked, just moments ago. Where was Elliot? As she blinked against the night her eyes began to adjust to the darkness it hit her like a tone of bricks.

_No. _She wanted to cry. _Fucking - NO._

No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no. That wasn't a dream. That was fucking real. That was Elliot, on her, in her, over her and it was the most explosive, intense moment of her life.

She felt the bead of sweat trickle down her neck and she pulled her arms out from underneath their capture, they were weak and aching from pins and needles. This wasn't fair, this wasn't right, maybe if she just closed her eyes he'd be back again, here with her in her bed, in her arms. Please, PLEASE, that couldn't have been her imagination. It felt way – too – real.

FUCK!

She held her breath for so long that when she released it she choked on the sob that she was so desperately trying to suppress. She was crying now and her eyes stung as the silent tears broke from the ducks and trickled into her hairline. Her hand came up to cover her mouth as if she'd be able to silence the noises retching from her body and failed dismally. Her nose was running, her vision was blurry and she rolled onto her side out of sheer necessity because she feared she'd suffocate on her tears alone. She felt ridiculous but the floodgates had opened and there was nothing she could do to control it. Somewhere in between the intense arousal, the emotional connection and the awareness that none of it was real she'd lost the ability to physically cope. She was crying for him; for them and for the damaging wedge she'd driven between them that now seemed startlingly irreversible.

**::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**

She woke that morning puffy eyed, sleep deprived and vacant.

When she caught her reflection in the mirror, her skin was paler, the dark circles more prominent and the rims of her eyes were raw and irritated. As her mind wandered to the events of last night she tried to ascertain how much of it was her dream and how much of it had been real. Had he even come to see her last night? Was that explosive fight on her front stoop just her imagination too?

She dragged her hand down her face and told herself not to be stupid. It was all real, every single minute of it except for the part where they pushed aside their bullshit and just fucked it out. She bit into her lip as she remembered the tension, the passion, the heat and the pleasure and she shivered against the cool morning air.

She should be happy right? That she hadn't just given in without a word and let him take her in the middle of the precinct. She would be stupid to think that something like that would fix things so why the hell was she so disappointed it hadn't been her reality? It hadn't scared her. Sex with Elliot never did, she was powerless against him, if he said the word she was his. Ever since Sin intimacy with Elliot had become a natural, primal, physical need for her. It was words, feelings and proclamations that made her crack under pressure rendering her emotionally incapable.

_You think this is just sex? _

She sucked in a breath. If she were honest, a part of her wondered if that was all she had to offer Elliot, or any man for that matter. The walls she had been building since childhood were so high now few men bothered to even attempt the climb. She couldn't really blame them when all they'd find on the other side was detachment and her inability to really feel.

But Elliot - Elliot had the power to make her feel things, feelings she'd harbored and suppressed for so long they'd always felt intangible. They had been constantly hovering above her, always there but never within reach. She wouldn't say it, she wouldn't say that four letter word that struck her deep in the pit of her stomach every time he locked eyes with her. But it was there, buried amongst other prohibited thoughts like her inability to cure her mother and the hatred she'd always have for her father.

He'd say it to her she realized, the moment she stopped running and just looked him in the eyes for more than a second she knew he'd say it. What scared her the most was that she wanted to hear it – desperately. Because it would be the first time in her life that she'd actually allow herself to believe it.

Of course Serena had loved her but that barrier, although as slim as a pane of glass, had always been there. She'd press a hand up against it every so often and her mother would match the motion but their skin would never touch. Olivia's mere existence was that pane and she'd wasted a lifetime trying to remove it.

But Elliot - he was the only one who saw through her rough exterior and right into the thick of her soul. She had done her best to push him away, ward him off and keep him at a reasonable distance but it was only a matter of time. She knew if she just gave it a chance, that one day, she'd feel the skin of his palm flush up against hers.

She closed her eyes, begging herself not to cry again, her eyes were already red raw and she was supposed to be at work well over an hour ago. She needed to wash her face and get dressed but all she could do was stand there staring at her reflection. She worried her lower lip relentlessly and could feel the roughness of last nights anxiety against her teeth.

When she finally managed to shake out of her daze she reached down absently grasping her toothbrush and knocked a second. She looked down in confusion at first and then it hit her. That feeling slammed forcibly into her gut, the four letter word tingling her senses and making her falter. She knew now that those feelings were no longer floating above her, blissfully intangible. They were a startling harsh reality that in time would only grow more prominent. The dream, that four letter word, his toothbrush sitting rightfully where it belonged. She knew then that all that was missing was him.

**::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**

She was late to work, considerably so.

Bennnett had given her a quizzical look but didn't broach her on the subject, instead just launched into the details of their latest case.

He was learning.

Cragen hadn't said anything either and she assumed that perhaps she was still in that grace period. Fin had sent a few stray glances her way in which she'd successfully dodged, but it was Elliot who had been AWOL from the moment she'd arrived that worried her the most. She tried not to linger on the why's or where's, telling herself that he had his own cases to deal with but his timely absence couldn't help but rattle her nerves.

"You gotta sec?" Fin whispered and she looked up from the file in front of her.

She tried not to react, or assume that this had anything other than to do with work, but she'd heard the tone in his voice and couldn't help but notice he'd approached her the moment Bennett disappeared.

Fingering her pen anxiously she nodded. She dropped it onto the file in front of her and stood up doing her best not to look like a deer caught in headlights. Fin motioned towards the locker room and she followed him in trying to block out all the potential scenarios she was about to be faced with. He held the door open for her and waited for her to enter before he closed it behind them. Her eyes closed at the privacy he'd just created and suddenly she knew exactly where this was going.

"I'm not going to pretend I don't know what's going on," Fin launched right into it and his voice was a mixture of frustration and annoyance. "I just need you two to sort out your B.S.-"

Her eyes widened and she didn't let him finish. "Excuse me?" she cut him off, snapping at his blatant accusation stepping forward intent on rivalling him. She'd expected he'd bring Elliot up but she hadn't anticipated he'd be so blunt.

His eyes probed hers briefly before he continued in a rush. "It's hard enough dealing with him on a good day, let alone-"

"Whatever it is you think is going on - you're wrong," she stabbed back defensively, a pang of guilt hitting her hard at her outright lie.

He raised his eyesbrows at her and shook his head. "Really," he looked at her in shock. "You gonna lie right to my face?"

"I don't need this." She started to walk away and had made it to the door when he stopped her with his words.

"Olivia," he called out and there was something about the tone of his voice that made her stop. Perhaps it was the guilt she'd been feeling taking it's toll or maybe she was finally done with denial.

"Alright," she whispered, her eyes still trained on the door handle because she couldn't possibly look at him right now. She was shaking slightly because the honestly that was about to seep out felt like a depraved confession. "I'll talk to him," she said quietly.

She hadn't admitted anything outright but the truth had been clear in her response. As he took the few paces across to her and scanned the side of her face she prayed he wouldn't push it any further.

"Liv," he repeated, his tone thick with a sudden sense of empathy and understanding. She turned to face him then and the look on her face must have convinced him not to continue because he was looking away now.

"We just can't keep going on like this," he told her quietly. "Between training the rookie and the case load," his words travelled off. "The whole departments slipping."

The reality hit her hard as his words sunk. He was right, they needed to get back on track for the sake of the job more than anything. Any personal problems she had with Elliot shouldn't be affecting their day-to-day; the job was far too important. She was unbelievably stupid to have let it get this far.

"You're right," she nodded in acceptance rubbing the back of her neck worriedly. She was still unable to look him in the eye as she turned the doorknob and opened the door. "Don't worry," she began, taking a breath. "I'll fix this," she said more to herself than anyone else before she walked away.

**::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**

"How was court?" Fin's voice caught Olivia off guard.

She looked up from her desk to see Elliot walking towards his, shaking off his jacket and hanging it over the back of his chair.

_Court._ That's where he had been all morning – for the Gerrity case. It all came back to her now and she felt a small sense of relief wash over her that he hadn't skipped out on the job.

"It was fine," Elliot responded and instantly she could tell he was in a mood. "Motioned for a retrial," he mumbled.

She still hadn't looked away since he'd entered and she knew she'd have to avert her gaze soon.

"Well don't get too comfortable, we've got a hit on the DNA," Fin explained standing up and pulling on his coat. "Warner wants to see us."

Elliot scratched his jaw, clearly frustrated before he stood up abruptly grasping his coat and pulling it on. As he turned to leave his eyes locked with hers for one solidifying moment before she looked away. She'd seen the anger there and it had been as clear as day.

His foul mood had nothing to do with the retrial.

**::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**

Her head was on the desk.

It was just for a brief moment while she debated how long she was going to wait. It was just after 6pm and she was still dealing with last night's exhaustion.

They had plowed through a heap of paperwork today, Bennett had even caught a break on their case but the effects of sleep deprivation were finally starting to take over.

Bennett had left a few minutes ago, Elliot and Fin had been out since lunchtime and she told herself she'd give it 15 more minutes until she called it a night.

Her heart rate began to slow as she breathed steadily against the wood of her desk and slowly she started to drift off.

She woke to a hand on her shoulder and it was gentle, coaxing her softly out of her slumber. Her head was against her forearm when she stirred, and she blinked a couple of times before she pulled herself out of her daze.

She looked up suddenly aware of her surroundings, the precinct, her desk.

_What time was it?_

"Go home Liv," Fin's voice spoke above her and she looked up, rubbing her eyes wearily and looking at her watch.

_7:24pm_

"I ah," she stammered her voice sounding groggy as she made motions to get up. "Yeah." She was completely out of it. He watched her with a sharp sense of concern as she ran a hand through her hair attempting to sort out the matted mess she'd made. "I was just-" she started, intent on explaining that she'd been clearing excess paperwork but he stopped her with a look full of skepticism.

A few moments passed between them and without having to ask the question, he answered it.

"Parent teacher conference," Fin told her somewhat uneasily, filling in the blanks that had kept her back so late.

She took in the words before she nodded, biting softly into her lower lip. "Okay." She came to terms with it, trying not to let the disappointment reach her eyes. She grasped the coat off the back of her chair and clicked off the lamp on her desk. "Night Fin." She feigned a small smile before she passed and was thankful that he hadn't pushed it because from the look in his eyes, she knew he'd wanted to.

When she reached the elevators she rolled her neck in an effort to ease stiffness and pushed the button. She watched the down light illuminate before her and her mind wandered, she was going to walk home tonight she decided. The fresh air, the exercise and the time to herself would serve her well and it would hopefully be just enough to help her crash tonight.

When she made it to the streets, the cool air freshened her face and she found her legs desperately itching to change course. It was then, 40 or so minutes later, that she'd found herself outside the modest city apartment and her eyes settled on the stoop before her. The apartments above looked worn but sturdy and she noticed only a few had lights on.

Up until this moment she'd only known of the address, sighted it on paperwork, but now here it was - a reality. She wasn't in Queens, she wasn't at his family home and her eyes itched, desperate to know which apartment was his as if that would solidify the realization further. As she made her way to the top of the stoop her fingers traced words that had been handwritten haphazardly beside the buzzer.

_Stabler._

Her heart started to thump in her chest at the thought of him answering. That gravelly voice questioning, then the moment where time stands still and she waits to hear if he'll unlock the barrier between them. She had no idea if he was even home yet but the realization that it didn't matter washed over her.

Because just like he'd waited for her – she would wait for him.

**TBC**


	9. Chapter 9

_I apologize for the insane wait on this. This chapter has been a long haul but I appreciate those sticking with me. Your loyalty and words mean the world. Leah, you sexy thing, as always thanks for beta'ing my words and Lauzon, you will find that 'scene' you challenged me to write in this update *runs away*_

_There should be one final chapter after this._

**Chapter 8**

He wasn't going to lie. He was pissed off.

He had been from the moment she'd slammed that tiny piece of paper in his chest and gave up on this thing before she ever gave it a chance. He wanted to grab her right then and there and just shake the damn woman.

For as long as he'd known her, he'd always cut her slack. Whether or not she knew it was another story, but in his mind – he gave her a break. She didn't have it easy, her childhood, her mother, her _father_, her constant internal battles. The shitty men and fleeting relationships that had come and gone. She hadn't been blessed the way he had been with his family and although he knew it was a result of her own choices, he was always that little bit more lenient with her.

Now however, he was done. He'd opened himself up to her, divulged intimate details about the demise of his marriage, his undeniable attraction toward her and she threw it all back in his face.

As he walked the few steps toward his stoop a part of him wondered if maybe he would find her there. He'd seen the look in her eyes at the precinct and it sparked a hint of hope that maybe over night she'd seen the light. As he rounded the corner, the breath he'd been holding in anticipation was expelled heavily when he took in the empty stoop.

He should have known better.

He might have seen something in her eyes today but expecting her to offer up that olive branch was just a pipe dream. He knew the only way he would ever get it would be to tackle the woman to the ground and pry it from her hands.

He was done.

As he slotted the key into his apartment building it occurred to him that it may not be his _family home_ but it was still _his_ _home _and tonight of all nights he was thankful for his own space. It had been a shit of a day and all he wanted was to shower off the grime and crawl into bed. The exhaustion was such a heavy cloud he thought he might actually succumb to sleep tonight.

As he took the flight of stairs up to his apartment he felt the strain in his muscles and made a mental note to release some of the tension on the bench this week. He fingered the keys in his palm and it was when he rounded the corner to his apartment door that he stopped suddenly.

She was sitting on the ground, one leg propped up, her back against the wall and her head tilted to the side. He saw her turn at the sound of his impending footsteps and they locked eyes. He thought about the olive branch then and he knew he should be happy about this, happy to see her, but he couldn't escape the realization that he wasn't.

The anger that started the moment she walked away smothered all the other emotions he should have felt in that moment. He didn't need this - not tonight. Not after the retrial, the parent-teacher conference and the less than amicable dinner conversation with Kathy.

He cleared his throat and she just stared up at him with an indifferent look on her face and the fact that he couldn't read her irritated him. She seemed unfamiliar tonight and he had no idea what to expect from her.

"What are you doing here?" It was a rough accusation that echoed through the hallway before it slammed visibly into her chest.

It had hurt her. He could tell, but she ignored it, ignored him and slowly started to pick herself off the ground using the wall behind her as leverage. He watched her brush off the dust from her hands as she swiped them across her pant legs.

"Your neighbor let me in," she explained, barely making eye contact, but she knew that wasn't what he meant.

He looked down the hall then and he wanted to be polite, he really did, but the tolerance he had for anyone today let alone her, had been minimal.

"It's late," he informed her, looking at his watch for affect. "I've had a long day."

She nodded in understanding but something told him she wasn't going to back down that easily. He realized then that she would have been well aware of the time because she was still in her work clothes and appeared to have come straight to his place. He had to give her credit for at least that because it meant she had been sitting outside his apartment for hours.

It was bordering on 11pm.

"Parent-teacher conferences run late these days?" Her eyes lightened slightly when she made the joke but her underlying question was there. It was her roundabout way of asking where he went afterwards.

He knew he could easily brush it off without answering but the decision was made and he was going to use it to his advantage.

"I had dinner with Kathy," he told her directly, purposefully and watched, just waiting for the light in her eyes to fade, for the awareness to seep into her pores and make her visibly shut down.

She didn't.

Her breathing hadn't hitched, her eye contact hadn't faltered and instead she just nodded. Her lips even lifted upward in the makings of a polite smile as if the thought had somehow comforted her.

He was baffled.

He tried not to look skeptical or let the annoyance surface but he was a stubborn son of a bitch who couldn't just flick off the anger switch just because she'd thrown him a smile.

"Liv, what are you doing here?" The words came out in an exasperated exhale and his eyes told her he didn't have the energy for this.

She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear before she spoke.

"Can I come in?" The boldness of her question floored him. She had completely disregarded the warning in his eyes.

He scrubbed a hand down his face and felt the frustration mounting, he was looking down the hallway trying to fathom what words he could say that would actually make her leave.

"It's late," he repeated, "I'm tired." He hoped that the bluntness of his statement would register because he didn't want to loose his shit with her.

"Please," she asked and it didn't even seem like she had begged him, no emotion, no vulnerability, just a simple request.

_Please._

It was clear then, he was weakening, because as much as he'd like to pretend otherwise - he didn't actually want her to leave. But he also didn't want to have this conversation tonight, not after the two-hour disagreement he'd just endured with Kathy.

"Go home Liv," he told her bluntly and it was the heatedness from his confrontation with Kathy that had escaped him in that moment and he immediately regretted it. A part of him wanted to apologize but at the same time, he thought she deserved this.

Her eyes flicked slowly between his. He could tell she hadn't expected that and as hard as she tried to suppress it, he could see she was noticeably affected. He realized then that she had come here intent on telling him something and he'd just severed that possibility with three words.

Her eyes finally dropped away from his and he knew he had seconds to fix this. She bowed her head slightly and started to walk the path around him towards the peak of the staircase.

He reached out as she passed and his hand sunk into her upper arm stopping her in her tracks. He felt her tense beneath him and he wondered if she would let him hold her or if she was about to rip herself from his grasp.

"I'm sorry," he whispered quietly before she had a chance to decide and he was looking at a scuffmark on the wall as their cheeks lined parallel. All he could smell now was her shampoo and he hated how that single fragrance made him weaken because he wanted to stay angry. "I can't do this tonight," he told her, narrowing his eyes at the wall in an attempt to steady his resolve. "I just want to shower and sleep." He tried to be honest with her, so she understood that they would deal with this eventually - just not tonight.

He waited for her to accept what he was telling her and walk away but she lingered, the warmth from her arm melded against his palm and he just wanted her to listen to him for once in her life.

"El," she breathed out, "let me stay."

He swallowed. Her voice was so goddamn breathy that it was making his mouth dry. He didn't understand why she was making this so hard for him, the Olivia he knew would have left minutes ago, hours ago. In fact the Olivia he knew wouldn't have come here at all. He'd made it abundantly clear that he didn't want company and yet she was refusing to leave.

He didn't let go of the grip on her arm and he knew it was because he didn't want her to go, but he was stubborn and frustrated so his voice continued to contradict the hold he had on her.

"I don't want to talk," he told her exasperated and even he heard the volume of his voice as it rose slightly in the process.

"We don't have to," she explained and her voice was low and soothing, juxtaposing the heatedness radiating from his. "We can just sleep."

The thought seeped into his body, the idea of her lying next to him, her presence, her smell, the shampoo, her warmth between his sheets. He wouldn't be able to sleep, he knew this, but the images were in his mind already and even if she left now, sleep would no longer be an option.

He released the hold he had on her arm and he wondered if he was doing the right thing, sleeping beside him wasn't going to change anything. It wasn't going to miraculously enable her to open up or finally tell him what she wanted from this but he figured it was a start. He'd pushed her hard tonight, repeatedly - and still she hadn't left.

He wondered if that was her version of an olive branch.

He removed the few steps between him and his door, inserted the key into the lock and waited just a few seconds before he turned it. He stepped into his apartment and when he turned around slowly, she was still in the same position he'd left her. They locked eyes and he left her in a calculated limbo before he finally felt himself give in. He nodded and shifted to the side, insinuating the invitation and he watched as she hesitantly complied.

As he closed the door behind her, he knew he should have played the gracious host and offered her something to drink or eat and wondered if she'd even had dinner tonight. He knew he should be polite and conversational and make her feel welcome but it was Olivia. She knew the drill, she knew he was exhausted and so he left her standing in his living room and headed towards his bedroom.

He stripped off his jacket as he walked through his door, tossed it to the side and pulled at the knot in his tie. He could hear her out in the living room and wondered if she was waiting for an invitation into his bedroom or if she was taking the time to inspect the apartment she'd never seen before.

He knew that once she had been between his sheets tonight that he could never go back. Her presence would become a fixture long after she was gone and her fragrance would linger well after the sheets were washed. Every morning he woke he would envision the fan of chestnut hair and bronze skin that he once had beside him.

A small part of him wondered if maybe that was why she was here, if her sleep last night had been interrupted by his mere absence. He wondered if she spent their night apart drinking in his smell, recalling his touch and god forbid even - touching herself. Despite his exhaustion his libido was rumbling because he still couldn't get the images out of his head, the warmth of her body, the ache between her legs, her pleading with him to touch her.

He masturbated in her bathroom that night, and again after their fight on her stoop. He shouldn't be this turned on, he was in his forties for crying out loud but any attention from her negative or otherwise hit him hard between his legs. He wondered if he would be lucky enough to sleep at all tonight. She seemed relaxed, there was a calmness to her and he was pissed that she would be able to control her body while he'd be dealing with yet another unrelenting hard-on.

As he unfastened his belt he felt the start of his semi forming already. He kicked himself because it was his own damn fault for thinking about her body while she wandered his apartment. He figured he should have had more discretion while he undressed as they weren't in _that_ place yet but he left the door to his bedroom wide open because he had nothing to hide from her.

He wished he could say the same about her.

He glanced out the open passage way and he couldn't see her but he could hear her filling up a glass of water. He dropped his pants and made his way into the bathroom intent on taking care of his growing desire so he had a better chance of sleeping tonight.

He clicked the door shut and ran the water until the heat and steam began to rise. He still had his jocks on and the thought of touching himself while she padded around his apartment made the hardness between his legs a growing ache. As he waited for the water to form the perfect temperature he dropped his hand between his legs and tugged himself through the material twice, sending ripples of pleasure through his groin. As he held his other hand under the spray he could feel the water starting to heat into a soothing burn. He tugged his jocks down his body and his erection bobbed in front of him as he stepped under the spray. The water hit his face and he opened his mouth before he turned around and let the searing liquid drench his back.

There was a certain relief that only came from the warmth of a hot shower and it pummeled into the muscles of his back. The scorching water pressure slowly eased him into a state of relax as his hand located his cock. He circled the width and the warm water trickled beneath his palm, lubricating his grip. He began to stroke himself and it wasn't long until his eyes slipped closed and his mind wandered to her mouth. He didn't analyze why that was the first part of her body he had gone to.

Her lips were full and deliberate and he wondered if she realized just how much of an effect they had always had on him. Her mouth has always been there, giving him shit eating grins, curling up in a playful smile that she always tried desperately to stifle. Her mouth had spouted abuse, anger, words he wished she had never said to him and lines he never wanted to forget. He wanted that mouth, on his, her tongue plunging between his lips. He hadn't kissed her since that night on her doorstep after their_ date that never was_, and in his mind that had been way too long.

He wanted to touch her, slip his hand inside her jeans and watch her mouth part when he pushed his fingers inside her. He wanted her mouth on him, on his lips, his throat, his chest, his stomach, trailing down the length of his body. It was a dark thought but he wondered just how it would feel to have her mouth close over his cock. He shouldn't be thinking about her like this. She deserved a hell of a lot better than his testosterone filled, sleazy desires but his mind was there and he couldn't tear it away.

He'd dreamt about her, dropping to her knees in his kitchen, her tongue circling his tip before her lips closed over him. The act itself in general had never been a particular turn on for him but if it were her mouth, her lips, her control – that was a different story. He knew she was too good for that, maybe that was it – the idea that she would never reduce herself to such an act. Somewhere though, deep within him he thinks that maybe she'd get a great deal of satisfaction out of having him powerless against her as she sucked him off.

He braced himself against the cool tiles as he continued to pump himself and he wondered what would happen if she walked in here right now and asked if she could join him. He would have her flush up against the tiles before she knew what hit her. He would spread her legs with his hips and slide his tongue into that wet, open mouth before he drove his cock between her folds without a second thought.

He leant forward until his forehead pressed up against the slippery cool tile as he continued to fist his cock. The guilt was a constant cloud above him and he felt like a prick for doing this, especially with her in the next room. The idea that she would think about him, dream about him to this degree seemed implausible. She'd probably be horrified to know what was going through his mind right now.

He wanted to sleep tonight, that was his justification for doing this. He didn't want to lay awake all night listening to her labored breathing and flexing his fingers, expelling the need to touch her. He wanted to prove to her that he had restraint, that he could lay next to her without sporting a raging hard-on but most of all, he wanted her to know that what he wanted from her was _far_ from just sex.

He was picturing her now, that night - lying on her back, curled into his side, his hand between her legs, fingers thrusting into her, stretching her as her hips rose and she rocked against him. He heard the panting, the writhing, the moaning and it was the feeling of her walls clamping around his fingers that sent him over the edge. His hand pressed into the porcelain tiles as the muscles in his back strained and his body bucked forward. He spilled himself into the shower below, the aftermath of his orgasm circling the drain before it disappeared from sight.

He let out the breath he was holding as the tremors started to dissipate and he submerged his head under the spray once more.

**::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**

She heard the shower running and it had given her the opportunity to take in his apartment at her own pace. If she were honest with herself she had half expected to find mismatched mugs, minimal silverware and unpacked boxes scattered around the apartment – all signs indicating that this was just temporary.

It was the opposite.

Everything seemed to be in its rightful place and it was a strange sense of relief for her. She studied the pictures on his fridge, one of Maureen at graduation, another of Kathleen in front of a 21st cake, a third of Kathy holding Eli with the twins and slotted into the mix was a shot of her, Elliot, Munch and Fin circled around a booth at O'Malley's. It was taken several years ago, before Gitano, before Oregon, before the complications - before this irreversible tie between them first fused. They both sported hearty smiles with a light in their eyes that throughout the years and the cases had long since faded. It was an odd sensation after all this time to be taking in the picture of their past, while the man she would sleep next to tonight showered in the next room.

She had considered waiting for him on the sofa but somewhere in between D.C. and Hank Moore she'd relinquished the right to be subtle about this. She made her way towards his bedroom and briefly scanned the room before she perched herself on the edge of his bed. She shrugged her jacket off and tossed it to the side but she didn't unclip her badge or weapon. Instead she just sat there, with her forearms on her thighs and hands clasped between her legs. _Waiting._ The water was still running and her lips twisted up into the makings of a smile. He wasn't notorious for having long showers, so either he was purposefully making her sweat or –

She heard the pipes turn abruptly off and her stomach spiraled with nerves, snapping her out of her thoughts. She shouldn't be this uneasy, it was only Elliot after all but she'd pushed him hard tonight. He had made it clear he wasn't going to give into her that easily and the walls he had suddenly erected had completely thrown her.

She thumbed her palm anxiously as her eyes ran over the paperback perched on his bedside table. It was the hint of tattered yellow that stuck out from the pages that caught her attention. The post-it looked similar to the ones they used at the precinct and it wasn't the curiosity that grabbed her - it was the distraction. The idea that a semi naked Elliot was about to enter the room was enough to send her into a tailspin so she grasped the book in an effort to deter her thoughts.

She opened it to the spot where the post-it lay wedged between the pages and her eyes raked over the familiar handwriting.

_Mathers confessed. You're buying._

_-Liv_

Her eyebrows rose in surprise as she recalled the case, it had to have been at least half a decade ago. They had bickered over the credibility of a suspect to the point where he told her hell would freeze over before they got a confession. The loser bought dinner. It had taken her a grueling 14 hours, Elliot had long since thrown in the towel and gone home to his family but she refused to give in. After the confession had been signed and sealed she packed up her things, clicked her desk lamp off and before she left grabbed the sticky note from her desk. She scribbled down her taunt with a small smile and left it for him to find in the morning.

She hadn't gloated the next day, the post-it had said it all and although he acted outwardly defeated she knew he was beyond relieved that she'd closed such an unsound case. They both were certain the son of a bitch was guilty, but the evidence was lacking and he was a stones throw away from getting off on a technicality. The victims had been Elliot's daughter's age so it didn't need to be said that he wanted nothing more than to lock the prick up. They_ needed_ that confession and now as a result of her pursuit Mathers was now safely behind bars.

She had never forgotten the look she'd seen in his eyes, it was a great sense of astonishment and appreciation but most of all - admiration. He was proud of her, and although he never outwardly voiced it, it had been undeniable. He had all intentions of delivering on his promise, they had tried a couple of times to make it out to a quiet place after work but the job kept getting in the way. As the days turned into weeks, the promise continued to slip and once the next big case broke, it was all but forgotten. As she looked down at the tattered memory her eyes flickered at the fact that it was clear now. Although it had appeared to just be a fleeting moment between them - it had never escaped him.

The door clicked open and she jumped slightly, pulling herself out of her daze. She closed the book hurriedly and looked up to catch him walking out of the connected bathroom. Her body was buzzing from the memory and as his blue eyes flicked to hers she clutched the book tightly in her hands. As the residual steam seeped from the bathroom her heartbeat became a deep throb in her chest.

She watched his eyes fall down to the paperback in her lap and instead of continuing his path to his dresser he walked the few hesitant steps towards her. She was aware that her peripheral vision allowed access to his exposed chest but she refused to tear her eyes away from his. She wouldn't watch the beads of water as they dripped down the thick column of his neck before descending between the valley of his pectorals. She didn't acknowledge them as they slid over the roughness of his abdomen and into the small trail of hair curtained only by white cotton. Instead she swallowed the saliva in her mouth, fingered the book and waited for him to break the silence.

"I still owe you that dinner," he said softly and she watched his lips curl up into a sheepish grin, as if he were well aware that he had left it too long. She wanted to acknowledge the humor, return his smile, but she was too taken aback by the sentiment of the post-it that now staked claim as his bookmark.

Instead she slid the book onto the bed next to her and rested her hand on top of it. She lingered for what seemed like a lifetime before she stood up, habitually pulling her sweater downward as she slowly walked towards him. She felt his senses heighten as she neared and she paused leaving a step between them. Her eyes moved slowly back and forth between his, searching for confirmation, for assurance, for permission. She felt lightheaded as the nerves, the heat and the emotion soared determinedly through her veins until they intermingled in her chest.

The pang rocked her on her feet and she wanted to close her eyes against his because it was all becoming so real, so tangible, so obtainable. The apartment, the photos, the post-it – all making his confession on her stoop a startlingly reality. She wanted him to step forward, to remove the space between them, or in the least reach out his hand and pull her towards him. His stance remained as is, frozen in front of her and it became clear to her that she would be the one who would have to take that initial step.

Her heart thumped in her chest as she moved a fraction forward and she tried not to let the nerves reach her eyes as they clung desperately to his. She wouldn't let her eyes dip to his lips because she needed him to know that wasn't what this was about. It never had been, but it was the first time she was ready to admit that to him, to herself.

She was tentative, cautious because she didn't want to rush this, push it or overstep the mark. Her hands were the first to slowly reach out until they landed just below his collarbones. He was warm and flushed from the shower and she shivered as the beads of condensation seeped into her palms. She felt the tense of muscle beneath her touch and she held her breath as she slowly let her hands slide upward until they curled around the peak of his shoulders and she gently squeezed. She watched his mouth part slightly in response and she felt her body swaying ever so slightly on the spot as she continued to stare into the pools of blue.

She would have expected him to look away by now, bow his head a little or step back somewhat because she could still see the hint of hesitation from earlier lying dormant. She needed to dispel it, to quench it, to make him realize she was no longer going to give him a reason to be angry at her. She let her hands slowly curl around the back of his neck and she brought her body that fraction closer until the cotton of her sweater skimmed across moist skin. She felt him react, his breathing had heightened but his arms still lay idly by their sides. She just needed something from him, anything, a palm against her lower back, hand on her waist, or the slight tilt of his head as he lowered himself closer to her.

She wanted to kiss him, badly. She was well aware that she had a half naked dripping man under her palms, with just a loosely tucked piece of cotton separating her from all his glory. She wanted nothing more than to lean in and capture those lips, but right now she needed patience – understanding, because if she rocked the boat too far, they'd both fall overboard.

Words flittered through her mind now as her brown eyes searched his and they were snippets, off cuts, sections of all the conversations that she had only ever had with him in her mind.

_I need you. More of you. I trusted you to have my back, I want to trust you now. I don't want to run from this, but I'm scared. This is new. We've drifted so far before. Gitano, Computer Crimes, Oregon, Dani, Eli, Sin. This is our last shot, if I lose you because of this, I will have nothing. You have to know that what I feel for you is everything, that to use that four letter word would be an insult. I can't formulate words, I can't depict the feelings - just know, but the way I am looking into your eyes and grasping your shoulders that this is what I want. It's all I've wanted for 12 years. I'm yours._

As her fingers ran up the back of his neck she nudged him a little closer, until his forehead pressed against hers and she could feel his heated breath against her mouth. Her lips tingled with the need to press against his but she could sense the tension radiating from him was still thick. She could tell by the way the taut muscles of his neck flexed beneath his fingers that there was a good chance he would pull away soon.

She knew what he was waiting for, words, honesty, an admission. He gave her all he had to give on her stoop last night and now it was her turn to return the belated favor.

Her stomach spiraled at the thought of actually having to vocalize any of the admissions that had entered her mind and she was starting to feel lightheaded. The limp arms that remained idle beside him were starting to gnaw at her, she just needed a prod, something - anything. He needed to recognize that this was far from easy for her.

When acknowledgement or encouragement didn't eventuate, she realized that speaking right now was too daunting of a concept. Instead she wrapped her arms further around his neck and stepped closer until her chest meshed further into his. Her cheek slid across his in the process and her lips instinctively landed in the crux where his neck and shoulder met. She was still holding her breath, still waiting for him to pull away or tell her to stop. Her palms flattened on his shoulder blades and she succumbed to the warmth, letting herself sink further into his chest.

A few death-defying moments passed as she waited for him to either return the embrace or pull out of it. When she finally felt his fingertips brush the cotton of her sweater she exhaled the breath she was holding into his neck. She let her mouth press down into crux of his neck and her lips moistened against the damp flesh. The plan had been to show some restraint but the moment her lips met with his skin her control was abandoned. She parted her lips and let her tongue trail over the salty skin until she felt him physically shiver against her and his fingers bit into the skin at her sides. She moistened the area with her saliva and as she ran her wet lips over the slick patch she moved forward until her thigh pushed up against his crotch. She felt him squeeze her waist firmly before he moved her lower half a step backward and her arms slipped down from his neck in the process.

"Liv," he whispered and she knew then she'd pushed it too far too soon, he still had his hands on her waist and she let her palms slide down the outsides of his flexed upper arms trying to draw herself ever so slightly back to him. She watched his eyes dip to her moistened lips before he looked away.

"Liv," he repeated, warned, but all she could smell was the gel from the shower and all she could taste was the salt from his skin. She removed the space he tried to create and skimmed her mouth along the side of his cheek, nipping at his jawbone. She let a hand trail down the front of his chest, her scraping down the muscles of his abdomen before it reached the knot around his waist. Her fingers encircled the bunched material in an effort to untie it but he was grasping her wrist before she had a chance.

She heard the scoff and it snapped her out of her daze of arousal because she knew what was coming.

He stepped out from under her capture completely and rubbed a hand over his face. She felt the tension mounting and she was kicking herself for letting her libido take over just because she couldn't resist his state of undress. It was the dream, she told herself as her jaw clenched with frustration, that fucking dream blurring the line that bordered acceptable boundaries. She was looking at him, dead in the eyes, because if she looked away it would admit fault, blame, accountability and she wasn't sorry.

She braced herself for the accusation.

"Just like that?" he whispered and the look in his eyes made her stomach drop - he was pissed. "What's changed?" he pushed and she could tell, his defenses were up and he wasn't going to let her get away with dodging this inevitable conversation.

She sucked in a breath and closed her eyes. "I want this"

He scoffed again and the tendons in her fingers started to curl over.

"Tonight you want this," he told her stepping that little bit closer, eliminating some room between them, "but what about tomorrow, when you wake up and freak out over a toothbrush… or a goddamn fortune cookie?"

She deserved that.

She had to be honest now, give him something to make him believe that she was sure about this now, that he could trust her. The words circled over and over in her mind until finally they escaped through her lips.

"I don't want to run from this anymore," she whispered.

His eyes flicked back and forth between her as if he were debating whether or not to believe her. She swallowed under his scrutiny and wanted nothing more than to look away from his probing gaze. Finally his mouth parted and it was when he tore his eyes away from hers that her heart dropped at his impending blow.

"I'm not sure I want to risk that," he spoke mostly to the carpet.

She narrowed her eyes at the side of his face because _damn it_ she was trying, she really was and he was dismissing every goddamn thing that came out of her mouth. She didn't come here to start a fight but the muscles in her jaw were flexing and she was done holding back.

"I don't think you realize just how hard this is for me Elliot," she spoke in a strained whisper in an effort not to yell. She watched his eyes lift and meet with hers before she continued. "Twelve years of respecting boundaries, knowing my limits, you can't just expect me to just flick - _just like that._ Jesus Elliot, I'm still figuring out how _not_ to be your partner," the words finished off in a yell and she watched something flicker in his eyes, surprise, understanding and perhaps a little remorse. She took a breath and the realization of the words she had just voiced slammed into her.

_Twelve years of respecting boundaries. Twelve years._

_Fuck._

Without realizing it she'd just admitted a great deal more than she had intended to. She could see the admission registering in his eyes, he was softening, slowly backing down. It was clear that he didn't want to fight with her either, they had both done enough yelling to last a lifetime.

He removed the step between them and her breath caught in her throat as he let a palm run down her shoulder until it reached her elbow. His thumb smoothed reassuringly back and forth and then it was as if the honestly valve had been opened and she couldn't stop the words from flowing out.

"You know how I feel," her voice cracked a little because she was still trembling at the idea that after all this he could still walk away. She swallowed as he watched her and it all became too much, she tore her eyes away from his as the finale of her admission broke achingly from her lips.

"You always have," she breathed out.

She felt nauseous, light headed and if it weren't for his hand that was keeping her steady her knees would have probably given out by now.

She wasn't looking at him when she felt him tug her towards him, her legs were like jelly and she fell awkwardly into his chest, her forehead bumping his chin. A smile broke over her face at the clumsiness but when his arms encircled her back and his mouth slipped into the crux of her neck all the playfulness in her faded. She shivered as his lips ran across the sensitive skin of her neck and she moved her arms to wrap around his chest, basking in the way it felt to be holding each other so close.

"Liv," he breathed against her skin and she'd heard the gratitude, the thanks, the sheer relief that she had finally let her guard down. She felt guilty for keeping her feelings at bay and for fighting this for so long but it was all she had ever known. They stood like that for what seemed like eternity, breathing in each others scents, feeling the crevices diminish as their bodies fused closer together.

She held her breath as one hand started to slide up her shoulder blades, over the column of her neck and into the loose strands of hair and she shivered against his touch. His mouth was still pressed against her neck as his other hand slid further down until it sunk into the crevice of her lower back and he pulled her tightly against him, his warm breath sparking a flurry of goose bumps across her flesh.

She moved her arms upward, her palms sliding up the firmness of his upper arms until they curled around his neck and she brought his forehead down to hers. With eyes closed, they stood, motionless, their foreheads connected and she waited because patience was paramount; she would wait all night if she had to. The silence ticked by and all they exchanged was short, soft breaths that made her feel lightheaded on the spot.

When he slowly slipped a hand beneath the hem of her sweater and brushed his course fingers against her lower back her nipples immediately hardened against his chest. With one hand still holding the back of her head he tilted her mouth, bringing her closer, until she felt his lips press against her. He kissed her flush up against her mouth, lip to lip, a lingering peck before his mouth slid across her cheek. It was a brief, fleeting moment that made her head spin and instantly crave more.

She didn't open her eyes because the feel of him was all she could withstand right now. She could sense he was going to take his time with this but her heart was an incessant thump against her chest and she wasn't so patient. With her hand still coating the back of his head she pulled him forward closing her lips over his, dragging his top lip between hers. He moaned against her mouth and the vibrations filtered through her body.

Her impatience must have set him off because he tilted his head immediately and wedged her mouth open. The hand in her hair kept her mouth against his as he slid his tongue between her lips. When it swiped across hers a weak moan vocalized the pang between her legs. His free hand came up to cup her cheek and the way in which he kissed her was poles apart from the alley, from their date, from her dream. She felt like he was kissing her for the first time, exploring, learning, seeking, urging.

He walked her a step backwards and his hand skimmed down, moving over her weapon and holster and pulled them from her jeans. As he reached out to place them down on the dresser, he fumbled, knocking her into the drawers. The arm wrapped securely around her upper back had braced her body from connecting and the contents of his dresser shook as he tried to steady her. Her stomach dropped as his free hand slipped between them and grasped her badge, his knuckles brushing the bare skin above her jeans as he unclipped it. His mouth moved back over hers and his tongue swiped her lower lip as he bumped her ass into the dresser. The drawers rattled under the brunt of their bodies and he dropped his forehead against hers, reaching for her belt.

"Lie down Liv," he whispered as he pulled the leather slowly through the buckle and chills flooded through her body. They were miles away from the bed and he was already desperate to get her horizontal.

She stepped forward brushing her mouth across his lips until the words escaped her mouth. "Lie down El," she breathed against him because control over the situation wasn't something she was ready to relinquish that easy.

His lips curled into a smile as his hands moved from teasing her hip lightly to grasping both her hands. He led her towards the bed and her eyes followed him right up until the backs of his knees came in contact with the mattress. He waited half a beat before he tugged her towards him. She bumped into his chest until gravity gave way and they crashed onto the bed.

Her gaze locked onto his immediately and he wasted no time reaching up and grasping her cheek, brining her lips forcibly down to his. She opened her mouth immediately and his tongue plunged into her mouth, a moan erupting from her throat before she could stop herself.

She didn't know whether it was the fact that they were now horizontal, but she felt his restraint slip just as fast as hers did. He grasped the hem of her sweater dragging it up her back and it wasn't until he got it over her chest that he released her mouth to pull it off her. She felt him flush against her stomach, her tank bunched up around her breasts as his mouth returned to hers. He kissed her hard and her stomach dropped floors when she felt his hand move between their bodies and seize the lip of her jeans.

She felt lightheaded, still trying to catch her breath when suddenly she was on her back and he was unbuttoning her jeans, unzipping and pulling them down her hips. She helped shimmy herself out of them until they ended up in a pile on the floor and it was when he attempted to settle himself on top of her that she moved her hands up.

Her palms resisted his chest and he let her push him onto his back and climb on top. She watched his eyes rake down from her lips to her breasts and he took in the generous view above. His hand came out immediately, clutching the material between her cleavage and yanking her downward, bringing her lips closer to his. She fell into him, her mouth crashing into his and he kissed her hard, one hand snaking around the back of her neck to hold her in place, the other gliding up the side of her torso raking the material upward.

He slid his tongue into her mouth and his hand moved under the white material until he found lace. He thumbed the side of her bra as his tongue trailed over hers and she could feel his hard on digging through the cotton towel. It made her mind spin. She wanted this to last but the ache was too severe and she could tell they both were lacking control. His hand slid further around until he cupped her breast under her tank and he dragged his thumb across her erect nipple. She moaned into his mouth, hard.

He moved his free hand under the material and suddenly he was pushing himself upright in an effort to rid her tank. As he got it over her head, her ass sank down into a straddling position and he groaned as she connected with his lap. He tossed her tank to the ground and she tried to push him back down but his hand ran up her back and he pulled her into him, grinding himself against her through the towel. Her mouth parted because it hit her between the legs and she rocked herself against him in response.

She tried to push him back down again but he was already urging her backwards. She fell out of her straddling position and suddenly he had her on her back, wedging himself between her legs. His mouth came down meeting with hers and she moaned when his palm found her breast. Her head was up the foot of the bed and as he started to rock into her, she felt them begin to slip. He was too busy getting himself off against her to realize her head was now coming off the mattress.

She gripped onto his biceps to stop from slipping but when his hips collided against hers in earnest there was nothing she could do to prevent their bodies from falling. She sensed he felt the pull but by then it was too late. He grabbed her on the way down and twisted around so that when they hit the carpet he took the brunt of the fall. A noise of exertion escaped his throat as they thumped onto the ground and her hipbone pushed firmly into his erection. Her mouth twisted into a smile and she couldn't deny the low rumble that vibrated through her throat. He gripped her hips and flipped her so that she was the one on her back and she felt the rough carpet against her bare skin as he dropped his weight on top of her.

"Somethin' funny?" his voice grated in her ear before he let his mouth trace the perimeter of her jawbone. She tried to bite back the inevitable laugh but it was the stifled jolts wracking through her body that gave her away. "Say it," he whispered in her ear and she could tell he was smiling. "I know you want to."

She sunk her teeth into her lower lip, to stop the words from coming out but she couldn't help herself. "Smooth El," she said with a wide smile. "Real smooth."

As he brushed his lips against the column of her throat his low laugh rumbled into the crux. She relaxed against him and took the moment to just breathe because up until then it had been a frantic rush. He didn't respond to her comment and she could tell his ego had been bruised but because he wasn't one to let defeat linger, she knew redemption wouldn't be far off.

His mouth pressed against her neck and she held her breath as his thumb swiped over her collarbone. He kissed firmly into the sensitive crux and her eyes drifted to a close. His thumb slid underneath her bra strap and he started to draw it down her upper arm.

The nerves rippled through her at the notion that things were taking a softer turn and her breath became lodged in her throat. His hand snuck around her back and she arched her chest, lace pushing firmly into the hard plains of his chest as he located the clasp. She slid a hand through the back of his cropped hair and inhaled his scent. She felt the clasp as it released with a snap and he gently lowered her back onto the floor.

He hadn't seen her breasts, not like this and suddenly she was a pile of nerves. He started to drag the other strap down her arm and the gentle way in which he was touching her sent shivers through her body. As he tossed her bra aside, her nipples hardened beneath his gaze and she watched his eyes rake over the peaks. He pulled his lower lip into his mouth, coating it with a light layer of moisture and when his blue eyes flicked up to hers they had darkened considerably.

It hit her between the legs.

She didn't want the control now, he could have all of it, she wanted the desire she had just seen in the depths of his irises on her, around her, in her. _Now._

He slowly lowered himself until his lips dangled above hers and pulled her lower lip between his. He then sunk down enough so she felt the scrape of her erect nipples against the hard plains of his chest. Her mouth opened immediately and her breathy moan echoed into his mouth. She arched up, trying desperately to make contact and when her nipples raked firmly across his defined muscles he groaned into her mouth.

She needed more, she needed his hands or more contact from his chest but he was keeping himself elevated, teasing her only with the slightest of touches. She felt the cotton of that fucking towel as it brushed against her thighs and decided she was going to use the space between their bodies to her advantage. She reached down and slipped her fingers into the knot at his stomach and she was surprised when he did nothing but watch as she pulled the towel open. She slowly slipped it off his backside and he lent down brushing his mouth across her temple.

With his forearms propped above her, she let one hand smooth down the outside of his torso while the other raked down his chest. He let her trace the ridges of his muscles and it wasn't until she reached the small patch of hair that trailed down to his groin that he reached down and encircled her wrist. He slowly brought it up until he planted it shoulder height. She let her free hand run over his hip bone, teasing him lightly until he grasped her other wrist and brought it up. He let his thumbs brush over her pulse points as he held her wrists softly against the carpet.

He hovered above her, his cock throbbing between their bodies and he looked her dead in the eyes. She swallowed and decided to test his patience by lifting a thigh between his legs and letting it softly brush the tip of his penis. She watched his eyes draw to a close, mouth part and his body practically shudder. She assumed he would retreat but instead he wedged himself between her legs and lowered himself against her. She moaned as his cock pressed directly against her panties and he rocked into her.

"Fuck," she whispered because she hadn't expected that. He rubbed himself against her with more persistence and she arched herself against him, her movements restricted by her wrists. Her eyes were closed when she felt his mouth drag down the softness of her breast until he clamped down on her nipple. She called out as his tongue flicked the hardened nub and his hips drove into her sending ripples of pleasure between her legs. As his teeth raked over the peak, a noise escaped her throat and she tugged at her wrists in his grasp. He didn't let up, in fact his grip tightened as he continued to flick his tongue relentlessly over her nipple as she twisted below him panting and writhing.

"Fuck El," she gasped and he pushed his cock into her in response. She could tell she was already as wet as hell because she felt him penetrate her partly through the lace. She rocked herself against him and tried to ignore the building pleasure swarming in her lower belly because she was going to come any moment now and he wasn't even inside her yet. As his mouth closed over her nipple and he sucked, a noise escaped her as she attempted to detach her lower half.

"Donnn't," she managed and her eyes were still closed when she felt his lips come off her breast and the grip around her wrists loosen. She opened her eyes to find him staring down at her.

"Or I'll-" she breathed unsteadily cutting herself off now that his hands had released hers. She felt his lips slide across her temple and she could tell she was perspiring.

"Or you'll what?" he whispered, his free hand coming down as he grasped a breast and thumbed her already sensitive nipple.

"Come," she whimpered, praying that he would leave his lower half stationary long enough for her to gain some control. He flicked his finger across her nipple from top to bottom as his lips slid down towards her ear.

"Then come," he moaned.

She felt his hand move down her breasts, across her stomach and towards her lower half. Her stomach was in her throat as she braced herself for contact. Her lower half was burning as he slipped a hand between their bodies and under the material of her panties. Before she could catch a breath he slid his fingers down her slit and drenched them in her juices.

"Fuck Liv," he groaned as he pushed a finger immediately inside her and she whimpered and arched her hips against him.

Her mouth parted and she could feel his eyes on her face as he pushed in a second. Her eyebrows came together as she moaned in response and without thinking she dragged a hand up and over her breast before it continued up to her shoulder. She felt his mouth drop down at her temple and he groaned as he pushed against her. When she started to lose her breath she felt him slide his fingers out of her core and rub firmly across her clit. Her hand left her shoulder as she grasped his bicep and he increased the pressure on her clit before he plunged back inside her.

She called out and she realized she was barely going to last a second with Elliot Stabler's hand between her legs. She chalked it down to 12 years of foreplay and that damn, mind-blowing dream but it didn't matter because there would be a lifetime of opportunities for them to take it slow. It wouldn't always be this rushed, this heated, this urgent, but she thought for a good while she'd have trouble with restraint.

He rocked his lower half against the hand inside her and she could feel the rough carpet beneath her slightly chafing her skin but it was a welcome burn. When his fingers curled inside of her and he rocked against her clit she bucked against him, her fingers digging into the muscle of his arm.

Her eyes were pinched tightly closed when her walls tightened around him and the noise of her orgasm ripped through her throat as her body rippled with pleasure.

"Christ Olivia," he breathed against her neck as her body shuddered against him, "what was that? 30 seconds?" his voice rumbled but she was too dizzy from the orgasm to react. Her cheeks were flushed from her climax but mostly from the embarrassment that she came so quickly. It was the dream, the _fucking_ dream, her body hadn't calmed down since.

His mouth nudged into her. "What, did you start without me?"

"Shut up," she whispered but there was a smile in her words. "Just, shut up." She found the strength to roll her body into his so he fell onto his back and his fingers slipped out of her in the process. She moved a leg over his body and settled herself on top of him, her breasts skimming his chest as she rocked her lower half into his erection. She felt his cock slide against her damp panties and her mouth came down to kiss him. She pulled his lower lip between hers and her tongue came out to trace the edge.

"I'm not the one who just got myself off in the shower," she mumbled into his mouth and she felt his body tense slightly before his lips curled into a smile.

"I've just got more restraint," he whispered and grabbed her hips, pushing his erection into her reiterating his point.

She knew she could bite back but images of him touching himself beneath the spray were far too pleasing to disregard. She broke away from the kiss and her lips trailed down to his jawbone.

"What did you think about?" she whispered throatily, because she wanted to know what went through Elliot Stabler's mind in his darkest, most private moments. She heard the low chuckle and could tell by the tone that his comfort level had just lowered considerably.

Instead of answering he pushed his cock against her opening and she groaned when she felt him slightly penetrate through the lace. She suddenly hated the fact that he hadn't discarded her underwear when he had the chance. He seemed to think his grinding action sufficed as a response but she wasn't ready to give in so easily.

"Tell me," she moaned into his neck. She felt the air in his lungs expel as a hand ran down the side of her torso and squeezed her hip.

"What do you _think _Olivia?" he growled and the sarcasm was evident.

But she wanted details.

"Specifics," she whispered and suddenly her hand was moving south between their bodies down his chest, abdomen and towards his cock. Her stomach spiraled when she felt him relax in anticipation of her touching him and in one breathtaking moment she ran her fingers across his shaft. As she began to stroke the length of his penis his fingers dug into her waist, sending shivers through her body. She let her thumb brush over the tip and he exhaled heavily into her neck before she encircled his length and started a slow rhythm, sliding up and down his cock. He bit into his lower lip and she watched his head lull to the side as his hips rocked subtly into her fist.

"Unh Liv," he whispered as he settled himself into a steady rhythm. She started to increase the pace to match his, and with one forearm bracing herself above him she dragged her mouth across his and whispered.

"Tell me."

He just breathed against her as his hips got more insistent and his mouth clamped around her lower lip and sucked. She continued the motions on his cock and he parted her mouth with his and slid his tongue between her lips, seeking out her own.

She decided she wanted to beat him at his own game, he had been a cocky son of a bitch and it was his turn to succumb to her. She wanted to move down further, drag her lips down his chest, run her tongue down the plains and close her mouth around him. The nerves were out of control and she needed to rein them in. She needed confidence, she needed power - she needed him to say it.

As her thumb swiped his tip she could feel the slickness of his pre come and as he called out she sunk her teeth into his lower lip. She soothed the bite with the softness of her lip as her hand returned to its steady rhythm. She felt his breathing start to heighten and her impatience was quickly starting to deteriorate.

"Say it," she repeated against his mouth, this time with no playfulness and he just exhaled and rocked himself into her hand. He was ignoring her, he didn't want to admit it and she was about to loose her cool.

"Elliot-"

"Your mouth," he rasped almost simultaneously, "I thought about your _goddamn_ mouth." He grabbed her then, his hand bunched a fist full of her hair and he pulled her mouth against his. He plunged his tongue between her lips and her stomach flipped, her body tingling with nerves and heat because she knew, she'd just broken him. There was a darkness within Elliot that rarely saw the light and she wanted him to give up that control with her.

Her hand was still on his cock and she could feel him grasp the side of her underwear, the urgency amplifying a few thousand notches. When he couldn't seem to get her panties past her hips from the angle he rolled her onto her back and moved down, sliding the piece down her thighs. She knew it would be moments before he climbed on top of her and parted her legs so she was quick to move.

She pushed him onto his back and climbed on top, her mouth skimming the side of his neck.

"What's the rush?" she whispered into the crux smiling to herself as her mouth trailed over his collarbone and down his breastbone. She wanted to see just how much of this so-called _restraint_ he thought he had.

As she made her decent her mouth came in contact with his peck and let her tongue flick across his nipple. He tensed beneath her and tried to clumsily grab at her biceps but she quickly moved downward before he got a hold of her. She wedged her hips between his legs and his erection pressed into her stomach as she dragged her mouth over the ridges of his abs. She pressed her mouth into the muscles, kissing him firmly as she lowered her body further downward. She felt his cock slide between her breasts and he couldn't help but rock himself into her, groaning at the contact.

Her hands ended up on his thighs and when she slipped a little lower she felt his erection brush the side of her throat. His body tensed beneath her and she could feel the aching throb between his legs. There was a dark part of her that wanted to make him suffer, she leaned in just a little so that her soft breaths expelled purposefully against his penis. She felt the tension and frustration radiate as she caressed his thigh muscles. She wanted to push him as far as she could and there was a nervous swirl spiraling through her lower belly because she knew she only had moments.

As she slipped forward she brushed her lower lip against the underside of his penis and it was a soft, featherlike skim that made his body twitch beneath her. She skimmed her top lip across him and she heard the low frustrated growl escape from his throat.

"Olivia," he rasped the warning, but the crack in his voice reminded her that she had control here. Her lips curled up into a smile as she swiped her mouth across him once more.

"Mmmm," she responded, the nose vibrating from her lips to his cock. She knew she could make this an agonizing hell for him but it was her own lack of restraint that pushed her forward.

Her tongue came out and slid up the length of him and she felt his muscles tense beneath her palms. As her tongue trailed up the hard slick extent of him she flicked it across his tip before she closed her mouth over him completely and slid down his length.

She heard the moan and it was weak and breathy and he was reaching out, one hand closing over the top of hers that was positioned on his thigh. As she slid back up, she moved down once more taking him just a little bit deeper. He moved his fingers between hers as he arched into it. As she continued with her motions she felt his hips start to rise and he rocked himself gently into her mouth. She met his motions with her own and let her tongue flick across his tip before she closed her mouth over him once more. As she increased the pace, his breathing heightened and she felt his fingers begin to dig into hers before they slipped off and moved into her hair. She got shivers as his hand raked through the loose strands until they finally slid down and grasped her shoulders.

She took him just that little bit deeper and his jagged breathing escalated to moaning. She could tell by the way his fingers started to bite into the muscles of her shoulders that he was close. She let a hand move from the grip she had on his thigh to the base of his cock before they slipped down to his balls, gently massaging as her lips continued to slide up and down.

"Unh," he moaned and as his hips bucked into her mouth she waited for the climax but his grip on her shoulders were slipping down to her upper arms and he was pulling her upward. His cock slipped out of her mouth and he was dragging her up his chest before she knew what hit her and rolled her onto her back.

He wedged his hips between her body and she was pissed off because he couldn't give up the control for one damn second. "I wasn't finished," she rasped against his neck as he spread her legs with his hips.

"I want to come inside you," he told her, his voice pure gravel and her stomach spiraled at his intense need. She felt his tip prod at her entrance and all thoughts of their battle for control were now lost because she wanted him inside her. Now.

The tip of his cock teased her opening and she opened her legs a little wider in an effort to urge him forward. He moved forward and when she felt him begin to penetrate she found it hard to catch her breath. Her body tingled with the realization that this was actually happening and it wasn't out of rage or anger or loss of control. She didn't need to worry about their partnership, or his marriage or their future. Her mind centered only on the sole fact that he was slowly slipping inside her, filling her, stretching her, fulfilling her. It was when his hands sought out her own and his fingers intertwined with hers that she relaxed beneath him and their hips finally connected.

The sheer amount of pressure on her body was overwhelming, he had stretched her internally and his bulky mass was pressing her into the hard floor. There was no bow of a mattress beneath them and she felt the strain on her shoulder blades and tailbone. With their hands intertwined he was no longer bracing his weight on his arms and she had to focus on her slow, languid breaths in order to take him in this position. Her eyes were closed when he rocked his hips against hers and the pleasure rippled through her. She was thriving on the feeling of being wedged beneath him, feeling every single inch of his toned body as it pinned her to the floor.

His hips started to grow more impatient and he rocked into her once - twice, three times and her whimpers became muffled by his moans. He pulled himself part way out, his chest rising slightly off hers and she used the opportunity to catch a deep breath before he drove back into her.

"Unh," she moaned and he wasted no time pulling back before he drove back into her again. He continued the motions and she met him thrust for thrust, gasping at the small offerings of oxygen she could manage as he continued to pummel into her. As his mouth slid across her neck, his teeth dug softly into her skin as his hips continued to crash against hers. As he detached a hand from hers, she felt the night air hit the sheen of perspiration he had left behind. He dragged his palm across her breast and thumbed her nipple as he continued to slam his lower half into hers. Her breathing was erratic now, languid breaths were now a thing of the past and the pleasure was building with each thrust. She felt his thumb and forefinger as they closed firmly around her nipple and as he angled himself higher he rocked against her clit.

"Fuu-" she started but her breath was stifled from the burnt of his body weight. She swallowed the start of the curse word and instead arched her back as he continued to tweak her nipple.

She was well aware that since the alley this was supposed to be the softer version, the redemption, their form of_ making love, _but neither of them were playing by the rules. She used her free hand to side through his cropped hair and held herself against him as he drove himself between her legs. As he grasped her hip, the pressure began to mount and she could feel her walls begin to contract around his cock. Her eyes were closed, the oxygen was lessening and when he rocked himself against her clit she lost control. Her fingers pressed into his neck, her walls tightened around him and she shattered into her second orgasm. Her breath-deprived cry got lodged in her throat as she succumbed to the release. She felt his fingers dig firmly into her hip and the yell of his orgasm reverberated through her haze as he spilled himself inside her.

His deep pants against her neck became a tickle and she tried to focus on the small breaths of air she could manage each time his chest rose high enough to steal one. The after effects of her orgasm continued to pulse around his cock and she let her hand slip from around his neck until it encircled his wrist at her hip.

She felt him sink further into her and the wind was now officially knocked out of her. She felt the perspiration from his body as it seeped into her and every muscle in her body began to pulse under the pressure.

She attempted to rock him to the side but all she felt was the sensitive pang as her lower half rocked against his. He felt like a dead weight and she thought it would be moments, seconds until she passed out from the pressure.

"El- "she choked out and with the small amount of strength she could muster she pushed him at the hip. He got the message and slid off her body, slipping out of her as he sank down onto his back. She sucked in the deep breath she had forgone for the better part of their ordeal and closed her eyes. She could feel him breathing heavily as they both lay side-by-side and the realization seeped into her post orgasm haze.

She knew now that sex with Elliot would always be a frantic need for her, a power struggle, a physical ache that no matter how many times he made her shatter around him, she would always crave more.

**TBC**


End file.
